Take Me Home
by purpleygirl
Summary: Starts S3x24. What with dear old Dad, an angry Dan, a dangerously seductive old friend and a new set of murders, Lucifer learns there's no rest for the wicked. But first, why does everything appear so well between him and Chloe since she saw his Devil face? Explores themes of guilt and redemption - but with plenty of humour and lewdness! Bittersweet ending. Lucifer's ring. AU S4.
1. Devil in the Room

In the beginning…

No, before that.

Right at the _very _beginning…

The Lightbringer Samael brought his Father's light into the darkness.

And his Father saw that it was good.

The Lightbringer Samael spread the stars across the universe. So that every corner that had been darkness shone forth with his Father's light.

And his Father saw that it was good.

Samael saw his Father's pleasure with the light that he had brought for him.

And wanted to feel the same.

So he brought into the darkness another light. A star, not of his Father. A star of his very own.

And knew his Father's pleasure.

When his Father saw, he cast Samael's star back into everlasting darkness. And turned his face in displeasure.

So that the Lightbringer Samael knew displeasure too.

And gathering together the shattered pieces of his blotted light – all save one…

He became Lucifer of the Morning Star.

-x-

"So everything's fine." Lucifer crossed a leg, draped an arm along the back of Linda's office couch, and grinned.

She eyed him from the chair opposite. "Then why are you here?"

"Well… Actually, I don't know. Maybe I don't need you any more," he added with a flourish. "I'm all cured! Well _done_, doctor!"

But she didn't punch the air as he expected. "Yeah, it doesn't really work like that, Lucifer."

He chuckled at her adorably unnecessary concern. "But everything's dandy. As I said."

"Although Chloe saw you."

"Yes." He nodded, expanding his smile. He couldn't have felt more smug right now if he tried. And he was trying.

"And…?"

"And… And…" He frowned. "And what?"

"And how does Chloe feel?"

He gave another chuckle, uncrossed and recrossed his legs. "The Detective doesn't have feelings. She's a professional."

"Everyone has feelings, Lucifer." She watched as he shook his head, beaming. "Do you mean she hasn't spoken to you about this since she saw your Devil face, and discovered that you really are the Devil?"

"No need, dear doctor. She's back at work, no harm done. And why shouldn't she be? She's got her head firmly screwed on to her shoulders. There is no one – I mean, no one – who can just go back to solving crimes as though nothing has happened." He leaned back and gazed out of the window. "Yes."

"As though nothing has happened," she repeated. "But something _did_ happen. Didn't it?"

"Well – obviously."

"And you don't think you should ask her how she feels?"

He chuckled.

"Or mention it… at all?"

"But as I said. No need."

"Right."

"No, you see, we're in the middle of this case, and neither of us really have the time."

"OK. But after work?"

"Well, she has her needy offspring." He laughed as he recalled the Detective's replies. "The child does seem to have a fuller social calendar than I these days." He shook his head in wonder.

"OK. Lucifer. I think Chloe may be avoiding the elephant in the room."

"Or the Devil in the room?" He leaned forward and grinned.

She held his gaze. "Exactly."

He blinked, dropped his smile and sat back. "Oh." Linda had that look again. The one she usually had just before she began 'advising' him with some poppycock about feelings that made his head ache. He looked her up and down and wished himself far away, but it appeared there was no way to avoid it.

"You see, when something of ginormous magnitude – like this – happens, it sometimes feels easier to pretend that it hasn't happened at all."

"But you were all right. After I showed you my Devil face."

"Eventually."

"Yes, well. The Detective isn't you." He held up a hand. "No offence. But…"

"OK. Well. It's still huge. I mean mind-blowing. Life-changing. Insane. I don't expect you to understand."

"Why?"

"Well, _you_ know all the worlds there are, everything in existence. You're not gonna be surprised by this… _thing_ just suddenly landing in your life out of nowhere…"

"Really?" He could hardly contain his indignation. "You don't think it was a shock when you humans came along, then? When Dad just suddenly had this brainwave, out of the blue. 'Hey, kids, you know we're all this big happy family, but I've got this great idea, you're going to love it…'" He snorted and folded his arms.

"That's not really on the same level."

"No?"

"No. Because to us you're like some huge mystery, wrapped in an enigma…"

"And you don't think you are? With your _relationships_ and your _feelings_." He spat out the words. "I mean it's beyond me, it really is. And I am not the only one. Amenadiel still hasn't a clue, after all these millennia. Not to mention your _free will_. Yes, that one was a right kick in the cojones, let me tell you. Not the fact you got it," he added, raising a hand. "I'm all for you lot giving in to your darkest desires. But the fact we didn't. No, we weren't worthy, apparently."

"I had no idea. So, then, you do have _some_ understanding of what Chloe might be going through?"

"Well…" Did he? Could he? He knew she was only trying to help, but every time Linda tried to get him to think, it only made him more confused.

"At least give it some thought?"

He sighed.

-x-

Lucifer stepped under the police tape bordering the sun-soaked front lawn of the town house.

"Hey, pal, heavy night?"

"Always, Daniel. Why?"

"Cos your eyes… they look a little bloodshot."

"What?" He reached inside his suit jacket for his compact.

"You carry a mirror. Of course you do."

He held each eye open and peered. He'd been suffering from a touch of Devil eye since his Devil face had come back last week. It was something to do with his wings, he'd wager. They were still healing from the many bullet wounds, and were taking up all of his preternatural resources to do so, the bloody things. But nothing to worry about this time. His eyes were a bit crazed, perhaps, but not in an unearthly way.

"By the way," said Daniel. "I've been saving this till after Charlotte's funeral. Which you didn't come to."

"Funerals are morbid," said Lucifer as he exchanged the compact for a bottle of eye drops then squeezed a few in, just in case. "Saving what?"

His nose exploded with pain.

"That's for not telling us about the Sinnerman."

Lucifer held a hand under his bloodied nose. "I guess I deserved that." With the other he pulled out his handkerchief from his top pocket. "I recommend you don't try it again, though."

"You deserve more," Daniel said, but he had the good grace to look embarrassed as the forensics team arrived, passing by as they moved in to the house. "And it's not like you haven't done the same to me. So now we're even." He didn't wait for an answer.

Lucifer dabbed at his sore nose as he watched Daniel lift the police tape, then remembered his eyes. He popped on his sunglasses and went inside the house.

"So what do we have here?" he heard the Detective say. Where was she? He pulled open the blinds.

"Lucifer, what are you doing? Don't touch that." She pulled them closed again. "We haven't swept for prints everywhere yet."

"Sorry, but I can't see anything."

"It might help if you took off the glasses? And can you try not bleeding everywhere?"

"I'm not. I have a hanky." He held it out.

"Just – put it back."

"What happened?" Ms Lopez said, somewhere on the floor. Judging by the smell, she was by the corpse. "Someone hit you?"

"I was attacked by an angry douche."

"Dan hit you?" the Detective said in a strange tone.

"I deserved it."

He heard her breathe in before she said, "So, Ella?"

"Oh… yeah. Claire Foles. Thirty-nine years old. Time of death some time yesterday morning. Found by hubby."

"Cause?" asked the Detective.

"See, that one's tricky. Bruising matches our Robert Bowers a few days ago – around the chest, arms and jaw, suggesting they were both held down and their mouths forced open. But unlike Bowers and his stab wound inside the throat, Claire here was asphyxiated. _But_ no bruising to the neck, just like with Bowers. So" – Ms Lopez stood up – "cos there was no obvious object in her throat like poor Bob's corkscrew, I did a little poking and found these in her epiglottis."

"What are those, paper?"

"Looks like. I'll have to run them in the lab."

"So the perp moved the murder weapon this time. Assuming it's the same perp."

Lucifer stepped forward to see. His shin hit a hard object and there was a soft thud of something falling to the floor. "Oops. My apologies," he said cheerfully. He bent down to clear it up. It appeared to be a stack of fashion magazines.

"Lucifer, just – just leave them." She turned back to Ms Lopez. "So we've got to find the thing she choked on."

"Whatever it was, it was rammed down her throat pretty deep. It would have taken a while for poor Claire to croak."

"Sickening," said Lucifer.

"Some people have a world of darkness inside them, buddy."

"They certainly do, Ms Lopez." He got up from the floor. "This issue's over six months out of date – and right in the middle of this stack. What sadist does that? And look at the state of it. Worse than a dog's chew toy." He held its pages, mangled and torn, at arm's length.

The Detective came forward. "Give me that?" She took the offending magazine from him with a gloved hand. "This is it. Ella, do you have a bag for this?"

"Sure. Good work, Lucifer!"

"Yes. What?"

"Why would the killer pull out the murder weapon from her throat," said the Detective, "only to put it back in the stack? They must have known we'd find it."

"Hey," said Daniel, from the front door, "I have a guy, a neighbour, who says she had a visitor early yesterday."

"OK, we'll ask him what he saw. See you back at the precinct, Lucifer."

"Right," he called after her. "I'll just make my own way back." He lifted his glasses and gazed at the several forensics crouched and standing around the busy crime scene, swathed in protective clothing, taking photos and collecting evidence. "Right." At least the drive back alone, away from the Detective, would give his douche-molested nose a chance to heal.

-x-

"Hey, Lucifer." Ms Lopez moved out of the way as a man carried a box out of the lieutenant's office. She shook her head, folding her arms. "Man, you guys were lucky to escape his evil clutches."

"No longer Pierce's biggest fan, then, Ms Lopez?"

"I've been trying to figure out how he got away with it for so long. Know what I think is the key? Plain sight, my friend." She nodded. "A cop hunting a crime kingpin _who is him_. _No one _would suspect. No one did. Yup. Plain sight. What is _really_ hiding right in front of people's eyes?" she asked him. "Nobody knows."

"Yes, well, it's not like I don't tell everyone every bloody day. Do you think if Pierce had gone about telling everybody he was the Sinnerman, they would have dismissed _him_ as a loony?"

"I would have loved to have gotten my hands on his murder weapon. And that is not a euphemism."

"It wasn't murder, Ms Lopez. It was a fair fight."

She dropped her arms. "Hey, Lucifer, I didn't mean –" She slapped her head. "What a clutz. _This _mind? One track." She said, enunciating each word to give it dramatic effect, "It is trained to see every object as potentially the key item in a homicide. Even now it is thinking about your shades and the gazillion ways such a seemingly innocuous fashion accessory could be used to snuff out the life of some poor innocent victim."

"Delightful." He peeled them off his face and checked his reflection in the glass wall of the lieutenant's office – timeless brown eyes, tick, elegant Roman nose, tick, general fabulousness, tick – before tucking them into his breast pocket.

"But even creepier than that is how some sicko – one of the Sinnerman's henchmen no less – must have wrenched out the blade" – she enacted her idea of the wrenching – "from his still-warm body and fled with it as a warped memento of his beloved boss."

"Yes." He shook his head. "Sicko. Warped." He pictured the Hell-forged blade safely ensconced back at his apartment.

"Well, Lucifer, duty calls." She left him with her biggest smile.

Resting his hands in his trouser pockets, Lucifer gazed across the busy precinct at the Detective's empty chair. It would have been permanently vacant if Cain masquerading as the Sinnerman masquerading as Pierce had had his way.

He pushed the unthinkable thought aside, and focused on a much happier one. Like how well things were going between them. Really, Linda couldn't be more wrong this time. The Detective simply had other things on her mind. Like this case. After all, wasn't it his sole topic of conversation with her too?

He didn't see her come in until she strode past him. He followed her to her desk. "Detective…"

"Well, the main suspect in the Bowers murder is holding back. So we could really use your help on this, Lucifer. You know, do your… thing."

"Of course, Detective. Anything I can do to help."

"Thanks," she said without looking up from the mountain of paperwork on her desk. "Give me an hour, and we'll head down there, OK?"

"Fine. Er… Detective. About that… thing that I do. Now that you know it's not actually a parlour trick. Or auto-suggestion…"

"That's odd."

"What's odd?" He craned to see what she was looking at on her desk.

"Dan, can you come over here and take a look at this?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Just tell me what you think…"

Lucifer stared uselessly at Daniel's head. And he'd come so close. It was almost as if the Detective knew, and didn't want… Oh. He looked at her. No, he was worrying about nothing. Except… she didn't seem very enthused by whatever Daniel was droning on about the case.

"OK," she replied. "Well, I'll take a look into that. Could be something."

"Always glad to help." Daniel's grin vanished on reaching him, as it had a habit of doing lately. The only evidence of Lucifer's morning role as a punch bag was a slight frown, quickly gone. Perhaps the fact his nose was in perfect nick again had wiped his conscience clean.

"Yes," said Lucifer. "Always such a help, Daniel."

"Oh," Daniel said to the Detective as he was about to turn. "One of those witnesses – doesn't speak English very well. So I can look for an interpreter, if you want?"

"Oh…" She nodded.

"Thank you." Lucifer placed a hand on his arm. "But I've got this."

"But you don't know what language she speaks."

Lucifer chortled. "Don't you remember, Daniel? The Chinese mafia? Fighty, fighty? Deary me. Maze, the mafia and Mandarin? And me of course." He flashed his most dashing smile at the Detective.

"Oh –" Something clicked in Daniel's interminably slow brain.

"Ah." Lucifer smiled. "Someone's finally fed the meter."

"Right. You speak everything."

"Because I'm the Devil, yes." He grinned at the Detective again.

But she seemed to be thinking of something else. Because her eyes had taken on a fixed, blank look about them. Probably mulling over their case, professional as she was.

"So," Daniel turned to her. "Want me to find an interpreter?"

Lucifer released his arm in exasperation.

"Chloe?"

"Huh? Oh – yeah." She nodded. "That would be great, Dan, thanks."

Lucifer watched him leave. The Detective was poring over the files on her desk. "Maybe I should fill you in."

"Hmm?" She flipped a paper over.

"The triad. It's a funny story, really." He moved to pull up a chair. "When they suggested we settle things with a fight, Daniel actually thought…"

"Oh, you don't need to." She looked up at him with the perfect smile that always made him feel like he was back in the Silver City.

"I know I don't need to. I want to."

"No, it's OK."

"Really?"

"Yep."

He hesitated with the chair still in his hand. "So everything's OK?"

"Well… yeah." She flipped another page. "Apart from…"

"Yes?" He waited.

"This case is taking forever to get really started. You know?"

He smiled back. "Right."

"But we'll get there, don't worry. We always do."

"Yes." He held his smile, though he wasn't feeling it any more.

Bugger. Linda was right.

-x-

"You'd better not be screwing me about this time." Maze's voice echoed in the empty club as she came down the stairs.

"I'm not, Maze." Lucifer twisted round on the bar stool towards her. She was ready for a fight. But when wasn't she? "My wings have healed. I can take you home. If you still want to?"

"You can. But will you?"

He sighed as he looked at the suspicion coiled into every part of her demonic body. "I will. I'm sorry." He swallowed as he thought of the horror show of the last few weeks. "I should have done it sooner."

The harshness in her eyes dimmed. But like a true demon, she wasn't going to let her rage go so easily. "Show me you mean it." She folded her arms.

He moved away from the bar, and unfurled his wings.

Licking her lips in anticipation, she nodded. "About freaking time, Lucifer."

"I know. And I'm sorry. Again." He held out a hand.

Pacified, she stepped forward.

He smacked his head and laughed. "What am I doing? I almost forgot." And he stepped back to the bar and reached over for the blades.

"You want me to take them back to Hell?"

"They don't belong here. One almost fell into human hands recently. I won't allow that to happen."

"Since when do you care what humans think or see?"

"I don't. But in this case those hands would have been Ella Lopez's. Besides, I don't need them any more."

She jerked her head. "You're keeping them, huh?"

He glanced to his back. "Yes, well," he said with a dismissive smile, "they proved quite useful recently. And they're mine. They come only from me. I know that now."

She took the blades from him, and he watched her turn them thoughtfully in her hands. They were as much part of her as she was of them, forged from the same Hell fires. She didn't really belong here either. He should have realised. "So," he said, "let's get a wriggle on if I'm dropping you home." He held out his hand again and wiggled his fingers. "You'll forgive me if I don't hang around, won't you?"

She considered him. "Tell Decker… I'm sorry. And the kid."

Lucifer smiled.

"And look after yourself."

He chuckled. "Maze, have you forgotten who you're talking to? If there is anything a good Devil does best, it's to look out for my own interests."

-x-

"I only have her interests at heart, doctor."

"I know you do, Lucifer. But Chloe's in denial. No –" she added as he leaned forward on the couch with a grin. "I do not mean the river in Egypt."

"Oh." He sat back. Linda had an annoying habit of spoiling a good joke, even if he had done that one before with her. "You see, she said I wasn't the Devil, not to her."

"That was … before or after?"

"Before. But…" A weight dropped inside him. "She didn't mean it." He looked questioningly at Linda sitting opposite. "Did she?"

"I'm sure she did. But she didn't have all the facts then. Sometimes the truth can change things."

"Yes."

"But it's always worth being truthful. Don't you feel relieved, now she knows?"

"Relieved. Yes." Except why wasn't that damned weight shifting?

"Lucifer. This is not healthy. I think you need to speak to her. Confront her."

He thought about this while Linda continued waffling on. "So what you're saying is I should shock her into acknowledging the truth."

"No."

"I should shake her into seeing sense."

"No."

"I should tell her to pull herself together."

"No–"

"Genius, doctor!" He got up to leave, eager to crack on with this infallible plan. Already he was feeling much, much better.

"Lucif–"

He shut the door and clapped his hands. Although he was still disappointed he wasn't showering Linda with kisses, caresses and whatnots any more, at times like these he was glad he was showering her with cash instead, far more than the piddling amounts she billed him for. Because sometimes the good doctor proved she was worth every single penny.

-x-

"So," said the Detective outside the interview room, "that issue you found that was used to murder Claire Foles – turns out it was her last one as photo editor for the magazine."

"So no coincidence the killer pulled that one out of the stack," said Lucifer.

"The question is, why? Why would the killer care?"

"Someone linked to the magazine? With a vested interest?"

"She'd lost her job. Well paid. Her estranged husband – they were still together when she was fired – he had to get work in a restaurant. They split soon after. Seems he took it badly."

"So badly six months later he decided to feed her final issue to his redundant spouse?"

"That's what we need to find out." She pushed open the interview room door.

"Mr Foles," she said as she took a seat opposite the tired but fit-looking young chap at the table and consulted her notepad. Lucifer followed. "You haven't yet said where you were the morning Claire was killed."

Foles shifted in his chair. "Ask my father."

"You were with your father?"

He folded his arms and shrugged.

"Mr Foles, you're not being very helpful." But it seemed he didn't give much of a damn about that. She turned to Lucifer and cocked her head towards Foles.

"Oh – yes." Lucifer stood up, approached Foles from around the table, and grabbed him by the t-shirt. "Tell us what you know! You're the killer, aren't you? Admit it!"

"Lucifer! What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm confronting him."

"I'm sorry," she said to a scared-looking Foles, "my partner is –" She stopped and stared down at her notes.

"I didn't kill her," he said as Lucifer released his grip. "I didn't."

"Then what _did_ you do?" Lucifer asked. He perched on the table next to Foles and locked eyes with him. "Tell me," he said with a sympathetic smile, "what is your deepest, darkest desire?"

"I –"

Lucifer smiled encouragement. "Yes?"

"I want to make the most beautiful movie about what it means to be human and alive today. And win a truckload of Oscars so everyone who ever rejected me worships me on their knees." He blinked as a disappointed Lucifer returned to his chair next to the Detective.

"OK," she said. "What has that to do with your wife losing her job?"

Foles straightened his t-shirt. "I'd been working on my screenplay for the last four and a half years. I started it a few months after we got married, handed in my notice. She was very supportive. She understood its importance. Then she lost her job. I had to get work in a kitchen. You know how much I've written since then? One freaking page. In six months. It'll never be finished now."

Lucifer shook his head. "And the world will never know how much poorer it is."

"So tell us where you were on the morning your wife died," said the Detective.

Foles tensed up again. "I told you. Ask my father about that."

"We've already spoken with him. We'd like to hear your side."

"He told you I was with him then? Well, then, there you go."

"OK." The Detective gave Lucifer a resigned look. "I think we're done here, Mr Foles. We'll be in touch."

"Well, that wasn't shifty at all," said Lucifer once they'd left the room. "Notice how he carefully avoided supporting his father's alibi?"

"I really did."

"As for him being a failed screenwriter with an axe to grind… If they all had murderous intent, half of LA would be in mortal danger. And if it really was the motive in his case, you'd think he'd have fed his wife his unfilmable epic instead of her final issue."

"I agree. I think there's something else going on here. Something wider. And how could this be linked to Robert Bowers's murder – if it is?" She thought. "I think we should check out his alibi. We need to follow up on Bowers first, though."

-x-

The frizzy-haired bespectacled receptionist at Bowers's old place of work proved to be more forthcoming than Claire Foles's erstwhile hubby.

"He had it all," she said, sitting behind the front desk of the sales room. "Beautiful wife, company car, house, a cushy job here. Until he decided to try driving the boss's car on a bottle of wine."

A door opened behind them, and a burst of lady giggles turned Lucifer's head. "Congrats on your new house, ladies! Just head on over there for the paperwork," said a portly man with questionable hair and a salesman's leer as he pointed the two women towards Lucifer. He welcomed them with an appreciative smile. One pored over a brochure while the other returned his look.

"What about his clients?" the Detective asked the receptionist. "Did he know anyone called Foles?"

"Lemme see." She punched the keyboard. "Fitzimmons, Fong. Nope. No Foles. At least it isn't here."

"OK, thanks. Let us know if you hear anything?"

"Sure. Hey, y'all know he owes the boss a ton of money, right? He felt sorry for him when he said he was gonna lose the house." She leaned forward over the desk and lowered her voice. "We all knew the bastard was using it to pay his lawyers."

The Detective nodded. "So he was in denial about his insolvency."

"Denial!"

Everyone looked at Lucifer.

"Not about me," he reassured them. "For a change. No, it's –" He looked at the Detective, but she was giving him those soulful eyes, and he swallowed it back.

Sensing he had finished, they drifted away, the receptionist dealing with one of the women, while the Detective headed for the portly chap's door. Lucifer turned to the delectable young lady still hovering loyally next to him. "A river in Egypt," he told her. She gave him an empty smile and undressed him with her eyes. "Yes," he said cheerfully to no one in particular. He straightened his suit and gazed across the lobby at the Detective.

This confrontation business was trickier than it sounded. At least it was with her. He would have to play dirty. He allowed himself a sly smirk. Fortunately, dirty was his favourite kind of playing.

-x-

Lucifer's phone rang. He answered it. "Detective! You've caught me in the middle of some… thing." He smirked at the naked young picture of loveliness named Felicity sprawled across his bed.

"Lucifer? Have you seen the Bowers's file?" There was a sound like papers being shuffled. "I can't find it anywhere."

"Yes. I have it."

"You have it?"

"Yes. Here. In my penthouse. I've been indulging in a spot of homework." He grinned at Felicity.

"It's three in the afternoon. I need the file, Lucifer."

"Apologies, but I can't come right now." At all. He gave Felicity an apologetic look. "And don't you usually retrieve your offspring from school around this time? So why not just pop in here on the way?"

She didn't answer. She was onto him. Was she? Who was he kidding – this was Detective Chloe Decker. Of course she was onto him. "I'll be right there," she said at last. "Have the file ready." She ended the call.

"Right," said Lucifer, tossing the phone onto the bed. "Do you mind if we finish this later?" he asked a very patient Felicity. "My apologies. I don't usually stop at third base. But duty calls."

He left her to put on her clothes while he went for a shower.

When he came back in, buttoning up his shirt, she was dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrestling with a shoe. "Chop, chop." He helped her with the straps. "I promise I'll make it up to you, my dear."

He saw her out with a smile.

"Right," he said to himself once she'd gone. "Now for the tricky bit."

He studied his pale face in the mirror behind the bar. Linda had better be right about this. Or he was about to make a horrible mistake. The man in the mirror appeared to believe he was. "Scotch first, I think!" he told him, and poured and drank it in one. Then poured and drank another. And then lit a cigarette.

The elevator numbers began to move up from zero. Crap.

He stubbed out his cigarette and wafted the smoke away so she wouldn't smell it. As if that would be the thing she would notice.

When he was ready, he examined his reflection until he was satisfied. If this didn't shake sense into the Detective, nothing would.

He faced the elevator as it pinged open.

* * *

**A/N: If you prefer Lucifer acting more mature, don't worry, he will grow up as the story goes along - I just want to keep this occasionally fun, especially at the start.**


	2. World's Greatest Son

She stayed in the cabin too long, staring out. "Detective?" The machinery slipped into action. The polished metal doors began to close.

This was what it had felt like seeing the Silver City slide out of view.

She was almost gone – and then she put her hand against the door with an audible slap. It juddered back open like a dying creature being forced back to life.

Lucifer let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

She stepped out of the elevator, but didn't move any closer. The silence between them hung as heavily in the room as – well, as his bloody great wings.

"Linda said you should confront it." He glanced at a wing. "Apologies for this, not what you expected, but… I can't show you my true face."

She took a deep breath. "Yes, you can."

"No, I can't."

"Lucifer, you're right. I have to deal with this, all of it, so – I can take it."

"No, I mean I really can't." He smiled at her bafflement. She was never more beautiful when she was like this, when her innocence was on full display. "I might if I tried – I have tried it before with you – but it wouldn't be easy. You see, it came back when Pierce reminded me, that I was as much a monster as him. That's when you saw me. But you never do… remind me." And one preternatural surprise at a time, Detective.

But she still wasn't moving. Her fixed expression was back. Hoping desperately he hadn't broken her, he turned to the Bowers's file on the bar and opened it, as though what was in there was of any consequence at all. "I think we've been looking at this from the wrong angle," he said, turning over some pages. "Both victims were using the same employment lawyer."

"Really?" Unable to resist the pull of a case about to be solved, she strode forwards and dragged the folder to her along the bar. She was close enough for him to smell her scent. "How did you figure that out?" she asked as she leafed through the file.

"Oh, it just – flew into my mind." He grinned, though she wasn't looking. "I winged it. I'm no featherbrain." He coughed. "The first one was the best, wasn't it? I should have left it there, shouldn't I?" He expected her to turn and give him that charming pitying look she always gave him at his jokes. But her lack of reaction unnerved him. She had her eyes on the file, shoulders hunched over it, but she wasn't reading. If he reached out, he might have touched her arm.

She inched her gaze towards him. Emotions were warring inside her. He tried to name them. Worry, of course. A sense of betrayal? Hurt? And – her eyes traced his wings – was that… the one he knew best, his very own? His own desire threw up its hands and beamed as though it had seen a friend in a crowd of strangers… But then it was gone, pushed aside by the crowd once more. He thought he might lose her again. But he should have known better.

He watched her in awe as she pulled the resoluteness down from her head to her shoulders, through her arms, all the way to her lovely toes.

"Can I –?" Her hand lifted. If he'd blinked, he would have missed it.

He smiled. "Of course you can."

She reached. He let his eyes close.

"Can you fee–?"

When he opened his eyes, she was watching him.

She blinked something out of herself, closed the file on the bar and scooped it up to her chest. "I – I have" – she shook her head, eyes wide – "so many questions."

"Naturally. Like how is it possible I'm even more dashingly handsome with a pair of bloody great wings?"

The sound of her laugh lifted them from his shoulders.

"They're gorgeous," she said. "I mean, even more gorgeous than the fake ones."

"I should hope so!"

"Did you – I thought – because you had scars…"

"Oh – I cut them off. Yes, the scars were from the first time."

"First time?"

"Yes, they came back. Again. And again. It's a long story," he said, shaking his head with a chuckle, revelling in the fact he could say this stuff and her believe it.

Another silence descended. Then they both spoke each other's names at once.

They shared an awkward laugh. "After you," said Lucifer.

"I was gonna say… I think I've been in denial about a lot of things. Not just recently. For a long time. In fact, I think, right back to when I was shot. Do you remember? When I nearly died?"

"How could I forget?"

"And I thought then – you should have died. And I put it down to delirium due to blood loss. But not everything that's happened can be explained that way, can it?"

"Not really."

"And every time – I think it just got easier to think of some excuse. To think you're just a" – she hesitated and gripped the folder against her more tightly – "a weirdo."

"A weirdo with wings," he said, and smiled to put her back at ease. "I'll take that."

She shook her head. "All that stuff. The superhuman strength. The cuffs you got out of so easily. How you get in and out of places like they're not even there. Your _thing_," she said, gesturing towards him. "That time you were shot and there was blood everywhere. The blood sample I took, I just threw it away – why would I do that? Did I know? Even though Amenadiel tried to dissuade me? He shot himself wearing a blood pack, for crying out loud."

"Did he now?"

"And the time you saved those people through the gas. And I didn't even ask how." She lifted her shoulders. "Why?"

"Because I've always told you the truth?"

She studied him for a long moment. "The reason I didn't believe you…" she said at last. "It wasn't because of the crazy talk – though it was – _is_ – crazy." She sighed. "It's because all the things you've done have been the actions of a good man." There was a tired sadness in the way she shook her head as she held his gaze. "Not the Devil."

"I'm sorry to disappoint."

She was deep in thought again. "Lucifer –" She stopped with his name on her lips and stared the same way she had after he'd killed Pierce. He glanced over her shoulder in the mirror, but his Devil face wasn't there. She was backing away. "I have to pick Trixie up from school."

"Why not let me wing over?" He pulled his face into an empty grin. But he couldn't get the moment back, and she was already in the elevator.

"Thank you for the…" She gestured to the file in her hands.

He watched the doors close, and the numbers descend.

"Yes, I think that went well," he said at last, and feeling only some of it, beamed to the empty room. At least the Devil in it had been well and truly named.

-x-

"Sure, I'll hold." The Detective moved the phone to her other hand and chewed her pen.

Lucifer turned to Daniel standing next to him beside her desk. "If I owned a restaurant, I think I'd call it 'A Good Day to Dine'." He looked between them. "No? A bit of a mouthful, do you think?" He broke out his most irresistible grin. "Mouthful. Because it's a restaurant, do you see?"

"Yeah, pal," said Daniel. "We got it."

Excellent. He waited. But no laughter came. He blinked at their serious faces. Tough crowd today.

"Thanks. So," said the Detective, putting down her phone, "the restaurant confirm Claire Foles's husband wasn't at work the morning she was killed. He didn't get in till late in the afternoon."

"Was that unusual?" asked Daniel.

"Nope. His shifts are through the evenings most days."

"So, we need to bring his father in. See if his alibi stands up or collapses. I'll get on it."

The Detective stood up as Daniel left. "Can we talk?"

Lucifer approached.

"I mean _talk_, talk? Later?"

"Yes, of course. My place? Tonight?"

"Um… not tonight. Tomorrow?"

"Very well."

"OK. Cool." She came out from behind her desk and walked around him. "I'm just gonna…" She pointed a thumb down the room.

"Oh," she said, turning back, "and you don't have to…" She raised her hands in a kind of stretch, bringing them to her shoulders and glancing around in case anyone was looking. He found it adorable.

"That's a relief," he said. "They are quite cumbersome."

"Isn't that a great word?" said Ms Lopez, coming up behind him. "_Cumbersome_. What are cumbersome?"

"My angel wings," said Lucifer.

There was a pause. "Right!" said Ms Lopez. "Because _Lucifer_ was a fallen angel."

"_The_ fallen angel," he said, holding up a hand. "Thank you. And I didn't fall. I was pushed."

"Gotcha," she said, and gave him a nod and a wink before carrying on through the precinct.

Lucifer turned to the Detective, who would usually have rolled her eyes and disappeared by now. Instead, she had been watching the exchange with a kind of curious bafflement. "Amazing what humans choose not to believe, isn't it?" he said.

But she shook her head as if he were still crazy, before leaving. Though without rolling her eyes.

Progress. Of a sort.

-x-

"Oh my God."

Lucifer rattled the glass bottle he'd labelled 'Dad jar'.

"I only have a ten–"

"That'll do. It's for a good cause," he said as she shifted on his sofa to pull out her wallet from her pocket again with even greater reluctance. He was pleased he'd anticipated how tonight would go. "I was inspired by your swear jar."

"That was for Trixie's benefit. I don't see the point of this. Except to lighten my wallet."

"I told you, it's for a good cause." She didn't seem convinced. "It's for St Peter's Orphanage," he said.

Now she was. "_The Devil_ is giving to _St Peter's Orphanage_?"

"I'm not, you are. And those poor urchins have been scarred for life by Dad and his propaganda. They need all the help they can get." He shook the jar. "So cough up. Lovely," he said as she stuffed the note in.

It was filling up beautifully, he thought as he took it back over to his penthouse bar. This evening was already turning out to be a success for the orphans at least.

"God," she said, staring into her wallet, "I can't believe how much you've filched–"

He picked it back up again.

"Seriously? I literally have no more cash."

"A card? Cheque? Oh, very well, I'll write an IOU."

"Can we call a truce? I'm trying to have a mature conversation here."

"The orphans will be distressed." He sighed. "All right, I'll tot up what you owe later."

"Considering everything," she said, looking relieved to be putting her wallet away for the last time, "I'm glad now I saw Linda yesterday."

"My therapist?"

"She answered a lot of my questions." Oh. The Detective and his therapist. He couldn't deny he was curious. "She texted me, 'If you need to talk, I'm here' – real vague, but I knew what she meant." Indeed. He ought to thank Linda for that. "There's no one else I can talk to about this." _True._ "You don't mind?"

"Gosh, no! But if you want to talk about yours truly, I'm always happy to oblige."

"About that." She stirred on the sofa. "It's not the… Devil thing that I have a hard time with."

"Oh." A weight lifted inside him that he hadn't realised had been there. "But that's wonderful, Detective! I think that calls for a celebration." He reached for the Scotch.

"It's Hell."

"What is?"

"The thing I have a hard time with."

He poured a drink. "I'm not following."

"Hell is… wrong."

He stopped pouring. "Oh."

"Don't you think? Well, obviously, you don't think so…"

She was waiting for him to respond. But with what, exactly?

"I mean, when I didn't know it was real, sure, I wished everyone who deserved it there, without thinking. But now…?" She leaned forward, looking him in the eyes. "You didn't… create it yourself? Did you?"

He detected the hint of nervousness in the last question. "No, I did not. It was a gift. An unwanted one without a returns receipt."

She was silent as she digested this. Despite himself, he was beginning to find these silences as she searched him for the truth rather endearing.

"Cos I've seen some terrible things," she said. "And had absolutely no problem with throwing the bad guys in jail. And some deserve to rot there. But for most, even though I am so glad they're getting some kind of punishment – there's also hope, you know? That some day, the ones that make the right choice, work really hard for it, when they get out, they do something positive with their lives."

"Hope." He pushed down a snigger. "Hope for someone like Hitler? Is that what you mean, Detective?"

"OK, so he's an extreme case."

"You'd think. There's plenty in Hell like him who didn't get to run a country and command an entire army to carry out all his sick…" He took a sip of whisky to steady his nerves.

"But the ones with remorse? I mean real remorse? Or the ones that… I don't know, just made a mistake."

"A _mistake_?"

"Like Charlotte."

That was a low blow. She knew very well Charlotte was in Heaven right now. But if she hadn't died like she had, giving her life needlessly to save Amenadiel from Pierce… "I've only ever told one other soul this. The doors are never locked. Anyone can leave at any time."

"Has anyone?"

"No." Finally, it seemed, she was getting it. He swilled down more whisky.

"Why?"

He looked at her over his emptied glass. "What?"

"Why hasn't anyone ever left? If they can just walk out, like you say they can. If it's really that easy."

"I didn't say it was _easy_." He hesitated. "Believe me, I've been there."

"You have," she said, understandably surprised.

"Yes, when you were poisoned…" He shook his head at her stunned face. "Never mind, it's a long story." And he needed another drink. He was beginning to think he preferred the Detective when she didn't believe he was the Devil.

"So how did _you_ get out?"

"My mum. As Charlotte. But not Charlotte. Because the real Charlotte was somewhere else in Hell at that…" He sighed. Another complicated story.

"She helped you get out?"

"Yes."

"So… if people can be _helped_ to find their way out…?"

He looked at her pretty but foolish – prettily foolish, you might call it – face. "I'm the Devil, Detective. Not a counsellor. I ran Hell, not a toastier Betty Ford clinic." He reached across for the sweet jar. "There aren't many counsellors in Hell. Demonic or the human kind. Shocking, I know." He popped a sweet in his mouth. Gummy bear. Lovely. "And I have precisely no idea what makes humans tick."

"But you do have now."

"Sorry?"

"You've been here – what, six, seven years? On Earth? Among humans?"

He chuckled at her adorable naivety.

"I think you do."

He stopped chuckling, bit down on the gummy bear.

"A little?"

He tried staring her down, but she seemed to think she was on a roll.

"And why else do you hang around crime scenes all day, talking with every kind of person, finding out what makes them tick?"

He couldn't suppress his indignation any more. "That's not why I–" He looked her up and down, then turned away.

"And you have this gift… this thing to make people tell you what they desire."

"Yes, to find the best way to punish the guilty." Finally, they were back on safer ground, his ground.

"Or to find out who they really are, deep, deep down."

He searched her face, but she seemed perfectly serious. "To punish them with, yes."

"I don't know, Lucifer… I –" She sighed. "How do you know that was what you were meant to do?"

It was rare he found himself losing patience with the Detective, but now was one of those moments.

"Do you enjoy it? The punishment? Torturing people?"

She'd loaded the question, he knew. He couldn't win, so he just had to say it. "Yes, I enjoyed punishing those who desired it. Those who _deserve_ it. Like you do, Detective," he added before she could judge him. "When it came to getting my hands dirty, by the way, I delegated, mostly."

"Without hope?"

There was that hope guff again. She didn't get it. It wasn't him that removed all hope from Hell-bound souls driven down by their guilt. It was dear old Dad. "Look, I didn't make the rules. I never have, despite what you humans think. I had zilch input in the whole Heaven or Hell thing. I was just the guy who had to mop up the messes you lot make all over your grotty little consciences."

She frowned. "You mean like the janitor."

"Well, a bit more than that!" he almost choked into his Scotch. "Give me some credit."

"I do," she said. "It's a big responsibility."

He looked at her. She had an unnerving ability to surprise him, sometimes. "Thank you."

"And the responsible thing to do would be to try to help the ones that aren't beyond help… Right?"

She already had him on the hop. How perfectly devious of her. "Well… I guess it wouldn't have hurt to have tried. I mean with the most minor offenders," he added. "Say, the ones who kept the extra change."

"And then when they're out, move up the ladder a little."

"Well, let's not get too hasty, shall we?"

"Think of it like a favour," she said, brightening. "You like giving favours."

"A bloody big favour. Where would the tit for tat have been? The quid pro quo? What could any of them possibly have done for me in return?"

"But you will try?"

"Well…"

"Because I can't… I don't think I can handle a reality where there's a Hell and you just have to feel a tiny bit guilty and you're stuck there. For _ever_. Because it's just wrong."

"Don't blame me. Blame Dad. I do. All the time. It's very cathartic, actually."

"But is it his fault?"

"Sorry?"

"You're the – janitor – king, lord," she added hastily. "So you _do_ make the rules. At least there you do. And you said it was a gift. Hell. So how do you know – if the doors are always unlocked like you say they are – that that isn't what you were supposed to do? Help those who could be find their way out?"

He stared, heart beating a touch. "Well, I don't know. It didn't exactly come with an instruction manual. No one told me what to do with it. Just – 'Here you are, you didn't get Heaven, but here's the consolation prize. It's not a holiday somewhere hot, but one out of two isn't bad.'"

"Then I guess you're right."

"I am? About what, exactly?"

"That – he's to blame. God."

He couldn't help grinning. He let it bloom slowly, savouring it. "You're speaking my language, Detective." Yes, she would do. Even if God had put her in his path, to hell with that. Talk about the mouth that bit the hand that fed it. What delicious irony. He couldn't help a quick glance upwards once his grin peaked.

"For not telling you. He should have. I know you fell out, but he should have explained."

He was baffled. Truly baffled. "You're putting a lot of –" He almost said it. Not faith, not faith. He'd have a bloody field day if he was listening. "You're giving him the benefit of the doubt and he doesn't deserve it. Trust me."

"Well – OK, I don't know the circumstances. And I do trust you, Lucifer. If you say you didn't know. That he didn't try to explain…" She shrugged.

She'd warmed his heart when she'd said she trusted him. But now it was beating a rhythm again. Why? He struggled to think. To think back.

"Lucifer?"

"I…" She waited patiently. Damn her insufferably beautiful patience. "When the rebellion happened, it kicked off something of a hullabaloo in the family. Mum and Dad were at each other's throats. Again. I was the first, you see. To whisper dissent." He tried not to let the smugness reach his face. This wasn't the time. "And Dad…" He snorted. "Dad may be Mr Enigmatic most of the time, but when he gets going, it's enough to bring the heavens down. Literally. I mean, he's judgey at the best of times, but…" He looked at her; she was still waiting. Listening. The jokiness died on his lips. "And I may have… not really listened."

She said nothing. He could take her judgement. Hers, he could perhaps take. But not her silence. Her silent condemnation. "It seems I got it wrong." She didn't correct him. "Did I?"

"No." She shook her head as though she were trying to convince herself too. "What's important is that you choose to do what you think is right, now."

"I can't." He watched her face fall, his stomach with it. "No, I mean I do _want_– What I mean is, I can't _now_, because I'm not going back. Not yet at least. This is my home."

She nodded. "Of course. Well, God loves a –" She stopped and stared.

"Trier? God loves a trier, is that what you were about to say? Well, that may be, but I'm more about trying his patience, myself. Besides," he added, reaching for the whisky bottle, "I don't know nearly enough yet about what makes humans tick to be able to try yanking them out of their personal hell loops and kicking them out the door to Dad." He twisted the cap off and frowned at the wall. "I think I've only just begun to scratch the surface."

"Well," she said, and he was glad to see her relax for the first time this evening, "in the meantime, we can keep working on that. I guess" – she gestured towards him – "I'm kind of like _your_ consultant."

"Oh, my therapist takes care of–" Despite their talk this evening, she still managed to look affronted. "I mean, yes, you. Naturally," he added, and raiding his arsenal, offered up to her the most charming smile in his possession.

-x-

Lucifer sipped coffee as he waited for the Detective to return from some administrative chore somewhere in the precinct's deepest, dullest corridors. Daniel watched. "So that's where it got to."

"Sorry?"

"That's mine," he said, looking at the mug in Lucifer's hand. "First my pudding, now this."

Lucifer peered at the receptacle that had been the first in the cupboard. He hadn't noticed the chips in the rim and the stains that looked as old as sin. "You mean people actually lay claim to these… things?"

"Look, man, how long have been coming in here? Time you brought your own."

Lucifer choked. "My own…? Daniel, whatever makes you think I own one of… these?"

"So buy one," said Daniel, and he turned to leave, when the Detective reappeared with a stack of files.

"Did you talk to the employment lawyer?" she asked Daniel.

"Busy."

"Huh. Doesn't he know this is a double homicide?" She sighed as she dropped the files onto her desk. "Lawyers, they've always got something to hide." Her eyes shot up to Daniel's. "Dan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean–"

"I know. I know you didn't mean Charlotte. Because she had nothing to hide."

"She was one of the good ones," said the Detective.

Lucifer watched their sad faces. "She's in Heaven," he put in.

But the look Daniel gave him was an angry one. He shook his head at Lucifer with a snort, then walked away.

The Detective groaned and brought her hand to her head. "Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one putting my foot in it."

"But it's the truth," said Lucifer.

Before he could think further, Daniel was back. "The lawyer's number," he said, handing the Detective a piece of paper. "If you want to try."

"Thanks, Dan," she said, and gave him a gentle look.

"Daniel," said Lucifer, trying to copy it. "It's true. Charlotte's in Heaven."

Daniel's glare returned. "Yeah? How do you know?"

"Because I'm the Dev–" He thought fast, narrowed his eyes in effort. "Devvv– defffinitely certain that she redeemed herself. In the end." He couldn't help smiling in relief.

Daniel gave the Detective a look before leaving.

She turned to Lucifer once he'd gone. "Seriously?" she said. "You're giving up the Devil talk _now_?"

"Well, I – I don't want to hurt you."

Her face softened as she studied him. "You don't hurt me," she said at last, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Well" – she went behind her desk and picked up her phone – "we've got a lawyer to hunt."

Though unable to stop himself smirking, Lucifer was pleased that he succeeded in biting his tongue as he recalled that particular – wildly popular – pastime in Hell.

-x-

Lucifer leaned back in the Detective's chair, his feet on her desk. He'd only put six sugars into his coffee this morning, but it tasted very, very much sweeter.

"Yeah, I think we could use that." The Detective and Daniel were discussing a case as they approached. She stopped and stared at Lucifer's mug.

"Last one in the store," he explained.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. She seemed unconvinced.

"'World's Greatest Son'?" said Daniel. "Thought you and your parents didn't get along?"

"We have our moments, Daniel."

"So," said the Detective, evicting Lucifer from her chair, "Foles's husband's alibi doesn't add up. His father was seen returning home alone the day his daughter in law was killed."

"And he told us he'd been at home with his son the whole day," said Daniel. "What was it he said? Helping him clear out the garage? But we can't bring the father in again yet because he's currently out of the county."

"How fortunate," said Lucifer. "The Foles are no fools."

"So that's a dead end, for now at least," said the Detective. "Dare I ask about the lawyer?" she asked Daniel.

"You dare."

She sat up. "You mean you actually got something?"

"Follow me." Daniel headed towards the conference room.

The Detective started after him.

"Last one in store?" she whispered to Lucifer as he left his new mug on her desk. "I thought you didn't lie?"

"I don't. It _was_ the last one." He let her go first into the room. "The last one I liked," he beamed.

"So," said Daniel when Lucifer closed the door behind them, "when I finally got to talk with Foles's and Bowers's employment lawyer – guess what I found? Turns out Foles lost her job at the magazine because she let a photo get published that she shouldn't have." He slid a blown-up photograph onto the large table in the centre of the room. "An ordinary on-location fashion shoot. Except, in the background – a member of the Galdino gang looking real friendly with one of the Crawfords."

In the street behind the lady posing in a skin-tight blue dress, matching silk scarf, and sunglasses, two suited men could be seen shaking hands.

"I thought they didn't get along?" The Detective peered at the photo.

"They don't."

"Ahah. So they wouldn't want this to get out."

"Not even in a fashion magazine. Must have been a big deal. Apparently, when they realised they were in the shot, they talked to the editor, who told Foles to brush them out."

"So why didn't she?"

"According to her lawyer, she meant to, but by the time she realised her mistake, the issue had already gone out to print."

"Ouch. I'll bet they were pissed. The editor didn't mention it."

"Because they'd put the squeeze on him to keep quiet?"

"Right." She squinted at the photo. "So we need to identify these guys."

"I know him." Lucifer pointed at the man in shades on the right. "I'd recognise that weasel face anywhere."

The Detective turned. "You know him?"

"A favour of a favour…"

"You're doing favours for people like this? For people who" – she glanced at Daniel – "deserve to be punished, not granted favours?"

"I didn't give _them_ anything, they gave me. And I got a very good deal out of it too." In all probability, the drugs haul taken off the streets had saved a few lives – but one thing he _was_ certain of, it had given him more than a few excellent weekends.

"Why doesn't that surprise us?" There was an obvious edge in Daniel's voice.

The Detective caught it too. And his restless stance. "Dan."

"What? It's a valid question." He turned back to Lucifer. "What else aren't you telling us? Any other Sinnermen we should know about?"

"I did tell you," said Lucifer. "About Pierce."

"You gave us some crap about Cain and Abel. Is that what you mean?"

"It was the truth, Daniel."

"OK." The Detective held up her hands. "Let's just… reset, can we?"

"Can Charlotte reset?" asked Daniel.

It was the Detective who broke the uncomfortable silence. "Dan. I know you're still grieving. We are too. But Lucifer's not to blame for what happened to Charlotte."

"Maybe not. Maybe not for that. Not directly. But now we know he doesn't tell us everything."

"Lucifer tells us… enough." She gave Lucifer a look. He tried to interpret it.

"Why do you keep sticking up for him?" said Daniel. "I told you, Chloe, you need a partner you can trust."

"I have a partner I can trust."

"Really? Do you really know every side of this man standing here? Mr Lucifer Morningstar, the club owner who throws cash around like confetti and who didn't even exist seven years ago." He glared at Lucifer as though he had plenty more to say. Instead, he made for the door.

"I'll give you all I know about the gang members," he told Daniel.

"Yeah? You'd better." He slammed the door behind him.

Lucifer gave the Detective a humourless smile. "And I was just beginning to enjoy our bourgeoning friendship."

"He's still grieving. And he blames himself as much as you. We all blame ourselves."

"Grief _and_ guilt. Why do humans have to complicate simple emotions?" He snorted – but then thought of Uriel. Tried not to. But the pain of those new emotions flooded back. Grief at losing his brother forever. Guilt at being the one who had ended his existence.

He turned his thoughts back to Daniel's hostile outburst. "And now he's trying to break up our partnership?"

"He doesn't know he can trust you. Just give him time."

"I'm just curious. Is it working?"

"Well, what is it they say? Keep your enemies closer?"

He looked at her, scrutinised the way she held her head in one hand and the other on her hip – but couldn't figure out whether she was being serious or not. Bloody human emotions.

"Satan means enemy, doesn't it?"

He felt a chill at how easily she'd said it. "Someone's been wikipediaing me," he managed to force out with a playful smirk he didn't feel. "You can ask me anything," he said now. "And I'll tell you."

Any lightness she'd had was gone from her too. "I know," she said, with something like fear.

-x-

"What are you doing?"

"Ah, Detective," said Lucifer. "Just correcting my Wikipedia page." He scrolled down her computer screen and frowned. "I may be some time." He looked up at her with a chuckle. "There's more fake news here than a Trump press conference!"

"Hey, guys?" Ms Lopez put her head out of her lab door. "Isn't Paradise Heights where Dan said those gangster dudes had something going on?"

"I don't know," said the Detective. "Lucifer?"

"Hmm? Ah, yes, the ironically named Paradise Heights. I mean the place is a right hell hole. And clearly I know what I'm talking about."

"Why, Ella?"

"Because it's on TV."

They followed her into her lab, where a small screen on the wall was showing a shaky aerial news shot of an apartment building fire. "I saw it on a livestream, so I turned on the news channel." She turned up the sound.

_"The ten-storey building is believed to have been vacant for some years,"_ said an unseen female news anchor, _"but the fire crew are searching for anyone who may be inside. Though they are clearly being hindered by the ferociousness of the blaze all along the lower stories. It's too early yet to speculate on the cause, but we are hearing unofficially from the LAFD that they suspect some kind of accelerator could have been used…"_

"Ella, how do you know about this place?"

"I thought you knew. Dan told me he was going there to check it out."

"What…! When? Today? Without backup?" She pulled out her phone. "Oh my God. OK, we need to– Lucifer?"

But he was nowhere to be seen.

-x-

The television on the table, spotlit under cheap strip lighting at the far end of the large windowless room, was tuned into the fire. The two broad-necked men sitting with their feet up were eating nuts as they watched.

One shot out of his swivel chair. "Who are you?"

"Lucifer," said Lucifer. "Morningstar." He stepped forwards on the concrete floor and smiled at the two heavies stood gaping at him, wondering how the hell he'd got into their hideout. "A friend of mine is in the building you decided to light up like a Christmas tree. I'm assuming it was you. Either I'm right or I've missed the new trend for eau de gasoline."

He held up his hands. "Now, I can't fly onto every floor – that would be ridiculous – especially on telly. And make me a celebrity for all the wrong reasons. So which one of you lovely people is going to tell me where he is?"

They looked at each other, then pulled out their guns.

Lucifer sighed. "I'd love to stop and play, but I'm afraid I am pressed for time." And lunging forwards, he grabbed one of the barrels while elbowing the other chap in the face.

A shot rang out.

Lucifer looked down at the hole in his Prada shirt. "Ugh – now I'll have to make a stop to change," he told them while the elbowed chap scrambled on the floor for his fallen gun. "I'm really fed up of doing that."

He emptied the cartridge of the gun he'd grabbed so it fell to the ground with a clatter, then tossed it at the standing man's head. The man toppled back heavily against his compatriot, who'd retrieved his lost gun and was almost on his feet again. On their way down they broke a chair with a loud crack.

Lucifer looked in disgust at the two criminals sprawled motionless among the broken furniture. Both were out for the count. Wishing he hadn't lost his temper over his shirt, he buttoned up his suit jacket and dusted it down. What now?

Meanwhile, the reporter on the television warbled on.

There was a creak behind him. He turned.

In a darker part of the room beyond the reach of the poor strip lighting, a chap who'd very nearly escaped his notice was halfway under another table, one arm frozen above him, hand gripping the edge. Beside him, his empty swivel chair slowly revolved.

"Ah!" Lucifer straightened his sleeves and grinned happily at the terrified man. "Looks like you're it!"

-x-

"Hello, Daniel."

"Lucifer?" Daniel choked on his sleeve and blinked through the thick, smoky air. "What…?" he wheezed. "How did you…?" And he strode towards him, thinking there must be an exit he hadn't seen.

"Da-da." Lucifer held him back from the flames. "Don't be a Dan. Now," he said over the noise of crashing masonry, which released a dark billow of smoke, "why didn't you accept my offer to join you? Hmm? You've upset me."

Daniel coughed hard, doubling over in his arms.

"Okeydokes. Apologies for this, but needs must… when the Devil drives."

"Wha–?" But he was cut off by a punch aimed squarely between the eyes.

* * *

**A/N: Fun fact: It seems all he had time to correct on his ('Lucifer') Wiki page before he went Dan-saving was one typo. A cookie for the first person to spot when and what he did! (Clue: He went under the username 'The One and Only Lucifer Morningstar')**


	3. Devious Daniel

**A/N: This chapter gets a bit dark at the end, so just a warning for potentially suicidal thoughts (if he were mortal).**

* * *

"You're either brave or stupid," said the Detective to Daniel in the rear-view mirror as she drove.

"Stupid," offered Lucifer, smiling next to her.

She ignored him. "Think about Trixie. She needs her father to stay safe."

"Fathers are overrated."

"Lucifer, can you just–"

"Hey, this isn't the way to the precinct," Daniel suddenly piped up, causing Lucifer to snigger.

"You're going home, Dan. You suffered smoke inhalation."

"I'm fine. Lucifer's fine."

"Don't use _me_ as a standard, Daniel," said Lucifer, still smiling. "I'm immortal, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. How come I forgot that?"

"I'm worried it's affected his memory," Lucifer pretended to whisper to the Detective.

"My memory's fine!"

Lucifer laughed. They were driving along an open stretch and he watched the sky pass by. It made him feel like he was still flying.

"And where were you when they were checking me over? They said you'd vanished."

"_I_ had the good sense to escape all those invasive doctory whatnots." He turned his head to the Detective and whispered genuinely this time, "I went out the back for a smoke. Mmm, I love me a bit of irony."

"I wish you'd lay off the marijuana on a workday," she said.

"It was a ciggie, as a matter of fact. Why did you think it was weed?"

But she ignored him, again. "What if Trixie saw the fire on TV?" she pressed her captive in the backseat.

Her question called a momentary halt to Lucifer's growing enjoyment of Daniel's discomfort. "Er…" he said to her as a thought occurred to him. "Did you see anything… unusual on the television? Like a… man-shaped bird?"

She glanced his way, eyes wide, then gave him a small shake of her head.

He chuckled in relief.

"I don't know what it was you think you were trying to prove." The Detective was back on Daniel's case.

"Funny you should say that because I got plenty proof." Daniel fidgeted behind them. "Before they found me looking around, I took shots of the place – they had a full lab in operation on the fourth and fifth floors – that's why they burned the place down, to destroy the evidence." Lucifer heard him fiddling with his phone. "I managed to get some videos too."

Beaming, Lucifer held out his left hand, snapped his fingers, and wiggled them until the phone was in it.

"Dan, for crying out loud," said the Detective as Lucifer swiped through the pictures of what looked like a messier, larger-scale version of Ms Lopez's lab, a veritable sea of plastic bags, jugs and weighing scales, "it would have been just a mass of molten metal if it hadn't been for Lucifer."

"Daniel," said Lucifer, lifting the phone up and pointing, "what does this trash can symbol do?"

He laughed as Daniel nearly dropped the phone in his haste to grab it back.

"Hilarious," said Daniel, checking everything was still there.

"We'll get that into the station when–" Trying to keep her eyes on the road, she gave Lucifer a series of urgent looks. "Is that…? Oh, wow."

He followed her glance down to the bullet hole on the left side of his shirt. Dammit, he'd forgotten about that. He fastened his suit jacket, still a smidge ashy from the fire, with a chuckle.

She pulled the car over on Lucifer's side. "Call me if you need anything," she said, Daniel already getting out. "And watch out for those symptoms, OK?"

"Thanks, Mom." He slammed the door.

Lucifer lowered the window. "Bye, Daniel!" he shouted as he made for his front door. "Don't go wandering into any buildings on fire! And you're welcome," he added in faux shock as the Detective drove them back out into the road. "Deary me – did you see that? He flipped me the bird! That's gratitude for you!"

"You seem even more gleeful than usual."

"Am I?" His suit jacket had come undone again. The fastening had come loose, probably from the earlier fracas with the heavies. He slid a finger between the buttons of his shirt at the top of his stomach and out through the bullet hole.

"Yeah, I'm glad Dan's OK too."

Baffled, Lucifer looked at her, but she didn't offer an explanation for the strange remark.

"Look, Detective," he said. "It's like _Alien_!" And she rolled her eyes and shook her head as he wiggled his finger at her.

-x-

"She's auditioning for a role as a demon," Lucifer said to Ms Lopez. From the doorway of her lab, they watched the Detective giving Daniel round two through the glass walls of the conference room. "She's really very good. I think Daniel's about to crack."

"Yeah, well, _he_ knows he shouldn't have come into work today. I mean, he almost died, right?"

Lucifer caught Daniel's desperate glance. He grinned. Take your punishment, Daniel. He followed Ms Lopez back inside her lab.

"It's good she's letting it all out," she said, putting on a fresh pair of gloves. "She's been bottling it up for _weeks_. Not so good for Dan, though."

"Bottling what up?"

"You know, the shock of finding out her partner wasn't the man she thought he was?"

Lucifer's heart stopped. "Pardon?"

"Pierce?"

"Ah!" he let out in relief. A second later he wiped the accompanying grin off his face. "What about… if there were another Pierce alongside that one? Sort of like a… Pierce two point zero?"

"Gee, I hope not. That doesn't bear thinking about, buddy."

Lucifer sent her an awkward smile as she reinserted her earbuds and bent over a microscope. He watched the Detective bring Daniel's dressing down to an end and march away through the precinct. Daniel made a beeline towards him.

"Hey– Woah!"

"Man, don't ever scare us like that again, OK?" said Ms Lopez as she finally released him from a hug that Daniel's breathless expression suggested had been one of her most vice-like yet.

"You betcha, Ella."

"Well, OK. I won't nag as you've already had that from Chloe. But, you know, that was _not_ a cool thing you did yesterday."

"It was very warm, actually," said Lucifer with a grin as Ms Lopez returned to work.

Daniel pulled him out through the door. "Look, man, don't tell Chloe how bad it was, OK?"

"Oh, she's already given me the third degree. Yes. Sorry not sorry."

"Oh, man."

"Well, look on the bright side. You've had today's dose. So all good now."

"Yeah? For someone who spends so much time with them, you really don't know women all that well, do you?"

That worried Lucifer. "But didn't she let it all out just now? Everything bottled up, unbottled?" He looked around for her, as though she might spring up behind him and let out the rest of it on him. "Has she released enough emotions for _two_ Pierces… do you think?"

Daniel gave him a slow nod as he thought. "Yeah, I guess we're all still dealing with the fallout from Pierce. Man, I miss Charlotte. Every day. Like crazy." He considered Lucifer. "Hey, can I buy you a drink?"

Taken aback, Lucifer was unsure how to respond. "Daniel," he said, trying a sympathetic smile. "I'm flattered, but… I see you more as a friend."

"What?" Daniel's confused expression gave way to shock. He looked away, face reddening. "I mean a drink between pals. _Jeez._ Is that all you think about?"

"Ah," said Lucifer, somewhat relieved, as Daniel continued to look flustered. "But Daniel," he added, still puzzled, "I own a _bar_. Why would I need anyone to buy me a drink?"

"You know what, never mind. It was just an idea." Daniel seemed eager to leave.

Later, after being reassured the Detective wasn't about to unleash her unspent emotions on him, he told her what Daniel had said.

"Just let him buy you a drink," she told him as they exited the elevator on the precinct ground floor.

Lucifer made a noise of disbelief. "I own a bar!" he found himself saying for the second time that day, as if it needed repeating.

"He's just trying to say thank you. Repay the favour."

"Oh, well, why didn't he say? _That_ I understand. Though of course one drink – even my favourite Scotch – can't compare to almost becoming the Angel of Paradise Heights… Wait. _I_ turned down a favour?" He stopped and felt his forehead for signs of a fever. "Am I ill?"

Ignoring his distress, the Detective frowned in thought. "Unless he's trying to find out how you did it."

"Do I look ill?"

She turned to him. "You mean more so than usual?"

"That's not funny, Detective."

"And _we're_ supposed to laugh at your terrible jokes? Anyway, Ella said she'd have something for me today." She started towards the lab.

"Oh, yes, she said they didn't get anything from the prints to link Foles's husband to the scene, but they did manage to retrieve some DNA from hair they found, which they're currently running tests on."

"Finally, some good news."

"Glad to be the bearer." He was more glad she wasn't shooting the messenger, good news or bad. He'd been wrong to think he might be a Pierce mark two in her eyes. Unlike Pierce, he'd never deceived her. She'd always chosen him, and had never regretted it. He would always make sure she didn't.

-x-

It took a few days for Daniel to successfully enter the precinct without enduring an embrace from an officer who hadn't seen him since the fire, or the disapproving looks of Ms Lopez and the Detective.

Once he was in the clear, he finally asked Lucifer the burning question. "OK, I give up. How did you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"Reach my floor. Through all the burning floors. Then get back down, without anyone seeing us leave the building."

Lucifer patted him on the shoulder. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it, Daniel?"

"Is it?" It seemed Daniel's brain was overheating. He looked past him. "Has he told you?" he asked the Detective.

"Umm…"

"Cos you know I was hit by some… falling timber or something, and I can't remember."

Lucifer found it impossible to stifle the gurgle of laughter in his throat. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah. I want to know." He nodded so hard Lucifer was afraid his head might drop off. "It's been driving me crazy, pal."

"Right then." Lucifer checked over his shoulder. The Detective merely shrugged. "Right then," he said more confidently. "I flew you out using my angel wings."

Daniel was doing that nod again, less violently, but this time he brought the Detective into his line of sight. "OK. OK. You want to keep me guessing, fine." And he threw up his hands and backed away. "That's your prerogative."

"That's a big word, Daniel. Did you swallow a dictionary?"

"Whatever, man." And he left with a shake of the head, hands still up.

Once his glee had come down a notch, Lucifer turned to the Detective. "You don't mind the Devil talk? Poking fun at Daniel's expense?"

"Well…" She gestured towards Daniel. "He doesn't believe you. And… it is pretty funny, seeing the look on his face." She buried her attractive little nose in a file to hide her embarrassment at this confession.

"Detective! I like this side of you. Yes. Sly and cheeky. I didn't know you had it in you. I should have come out to you sooner."

She looked at him thoughtfully as she gathered up papers. "Maybe you should have."

Unable to find the words to that, he could only watch forlornly as she glided past him.

-x-

The DNA proved to be inconclusive.

But it was male, so they were forced to go through all the possible sightings, both in the Foles and the Bowers case, in the areas at the times of the murders. Daniel gave them a hand in the conference room.

"The last time it was inconclusive," observed Lucifer as he flipped through another file, "it was demonic."

"What?" The Detective looked up. "But you said Maze is back home. So… there aren't any others about, are there?"

"No, there was only Maze. Demons can't leave Hell without a leg up, so to speak."

"And that would be just you?"

"Oh yes. Just me," he smiled.

She went back to her file on the far side of the room.

Daniel approached her. "Do you think you should be humouring him?" he whispered with his back to Lucifer. "I see a lot of people in improv with… issues. I'm no expert, but the last thing they need is a fantasy world being perpetuated."

"That's why you go to improv, isn't it?" Lucifer said across the room. He looked up from the file. "Fantasy world," he explained. "Sorry, do go on." He returned to the e-fits. But Daniel seemed to have said everything, and he heard the click of the door as he left.

"Lucifer," said the Detective in a tone he'd learned not to like very much. "Can you try not do… or talk… you know… the Devil stuff, around Dan any more?"

"I thought it amused you."

"I'm worried about him. He might figure it out."

"Daniel?" He looked through the glass at Daniel, walking towards the busy stairs with a raft of papers in one hand, a coffee cup in the other and a doughnut clamped between his teeth. He wanted to see this one through, but the Detective pulled his attention back.

"Lucifer. I didn't think before, but Dan's parents were strict Catholics. I mean, they were really strict. And he was brought up on all hellfire and damnation stuff –. Anyway, he managed to get away, but… If he did know… I'm just worried it'd bring it all back. And after, you know, the whole Palmetto and Malcolm thing. It's still on his mind."

"I don't lie. You know that."

"Yeah, I know. But there's a difference between lying and not telling the truth. So can you do this?" She looked towards Daniel. "The thing about Dan… He tortures himself."

"Oh, goody, I love the low-maintenance ones!"

Her head snapped back. "This is Dan we're talking about." She jabbed him with a finger. "Dan."

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"That's your problem, Lucifer. You don't think." She threw up her hands and paced. It felt like she was still jabbing him. "Please think before you say anything. Or… do anything. Please?"

"Copy that, Detective."

"And try not to antagonise him."

"I don't antagonise people."

She stared. "You're the Devil."

He smiled. "Yes, I am."

"And do me a favour, will you?"

"Anything. I love favours."

"Don't do it for me. Do it for Dan." She seemed perfectly sincere, but Lucifer was baffled as to what she expected him to say. So, deciding on the safest course, he simply shrugged assent.

She made to leave. Lucifer reached for the next file on the table.

"Just how good is your hearing anyway?" she asked at the door.

"Sorry, what? Did you say something?"

"Funny."

He thought so too.

She left the door open. Through the glass wall, he watched her stop a colleague to ask him how his wife was doing and how long it had been since her operation. Lucifer smiled. "Good enough for me, Detective."

-x-

"The new lieutenant is a bit of a slave-driver, hmm? Still a step up from the last one." Lucifer gazed down the street in boredom as Daniel knocked again on the townhouse door. "Are you sure you got it right? It seems a bit strange, when we could have just called him in."

"And risk him running away again? Foles just got back into the county yesterday."

"Why would he run? He didn't do anything. It was his son who killed his own wife."

"Suspected," corrected Daniel.

"Well, anyway, if you hadn't told the Detective about the new lieutenant's fondness for impeccable paperwork, I'd be standing around here with her instead of you. In fact," he said, ignoring Daniel's look, which, oddly, seemed not so much injured as sheepish, "the Detective would never have come all the way out here for nothing." He sighed. "Why did you insist on dragging me along, anyway?"

Daniel shrugged. "Backup."

"You didn't want me when you raced into the deadly gangsters' secret drugs lair, did you?"

Daniel threw him a look that suggested he'd hit a nerve. He brushed past Lucifer and stepped onto the lawn.

What would the Detective do now? Lucifer thought. She'd think of something reassuring to say. Something sympathetic. "I too was trapped in a building once," he told Daniel, who was now peering in through the window. "Not a burning one. A convent. For a whole week. That was an eye-opener all round. You know the saying it's always the quiet ones…? Turns out it's right!"

"A convent? _Trapped?_"

Lucifer frowned in thought. "Or was it holed-up? Can't quite remember."

"Unbelievable," Daniel muttered.

"No, it's true. It was the Mother Superior herself who released me. Or threw me out. Again, can't quite–"

"–remember. Yeah, I get it. Come on, we're getting nothing here."

"But we're here now. Maybe someone's stuck and can't get to the door? Hello-o!" he said after pushing the door open wide. "Anyone trapped in here? We've come to set you free!"

"Hey, what are you doing? You can't just…" He leaned past Lucifer into the hallway. "Mr Foles? Police!" he called out. No one answered.

"Shouldn't we look around? He might be lying in a pool of blood, murdered by his own son."

Daniel didn't look convinced. "Check down here," he said, making for the stairs. "Don't touch _anything_."

Lucifer checked thoroughly, but all the rooms were corpse-free. "Any corpse up there?" he asked Daniel hopefully as he came back down.

"Afraid not."

Lucifer sighed. "Congratulations, Daniel. This journey has been a complete waste of time."

"You know what? Police work is like that sometimes. Can't all be fun and games."

"The Detective would never have left without finding a body, or evidence of a crime, or at least a new clue."

"Has it ever occurred to you that you see things differently where Chloe's concerned?"

Lucifer thought. "No."

Daniel shook his head and closed the front door after Lucifer.

Then, for some reason, he tried the door again. But of course, it was still locked. He sent a confused look to Lucifer, who quickly returned it. Lucifer left him rattling the door as he strolled back to the car.

Daniel was quiet for much of the journey as he drove them back to the station. Which suited Lucifer as he tried to remember whether that convent had been in Italy or the States, the Middle Ages or the Seventies. It really didn't help that nuns tended to dress alike wherever, or whenever, they were.

He heard Daniel breathing next to him. He glanced over and caught him looking away. "What?"

Daniel fidgeted. "I really want to know, man. How you did it. Got us out of that high-rise. I won't tell anyone if it's… beneath the law… somehow…"

"Only God's law," Lucifer said with an ironic smile. "And I couldn't give two figs for that. Funny – first the Detective, now you. I do seem to keep doing that lately." It did seem to be threatening to turn into a habit, he thought, like an itch he wouldn't mind scratching again. "I wonder why my brother hasn't come to tell me off yet for risking exposing humans to divinity. It's a big no-no," he told Daniel.

"Amenadiel? What happened to him? He just seemed to take off after everything."

"Take off! Bang on, Daniel!" He chuckled as he looked at the sky. "Maybe he's busy getting reoriented up there? And he was only away less than two years. Imagine how long that would take for someone like me? I mean _like_ me. Not _me_, obviously. I'll never get to see if they've made any changes while I've been away. Do you know there wasn't a single human soul there when I left? Makes you wonder… I might ask Amenadiel next time I see him if they've set up their own Lux or something. Imagine that!" And he tried to imagine his club without sex and drugs. For all of one second, until the idea depressed him.

"I know what's going on," said Daniel.

Lucifer looked him up and down in concern. "You do?" Dammit, he should have been more careful about what he'd said. He didn't know why he was suddenly confiding in Daniel anyway. The Detective was going to kill him.

"You're trying to confuse me, to change the subject."

Lucifer relaxed back into the uncomfortable police regulation car seat. He was spared another day.

"I mean, what are you talking about? Up there… Up where?"

"North."

"Canada? Why can't you go to Canada?"

"Of course I can go to Canada…" A thought occurred to him. "Wait." He looked at Daniel curiously. "Daniel, you knew our trip today would turn up nothing, didn't you? Did you orchestrate the whole 'the Lieutenant wants that paperwork stat' thing to get me alone in order to interrogate me?" Daniel's shifty look confirmed it. "Devious Daniel! I'd give you a round of applause if it wouldn't distract you from driving. Really, I didn't know you had it in– Oh, hang on." He slapped his thigh. "Palmetto. There was that."

"Now you're trying to annoy me into changing the subject."

He wasn't, but Lucifer beamed anyway. "Is it working?"

"Cos otherwise why aren't you telling me? Unless you're mocking me."

"No, Daniel, on this occasion, very surprisingly, I am not mocking you."

"Then…"

Lucifer sighed as they turned into the road leading up to the precinct, and looked at the tautness in Daniel's body. If he couldn't tell him that truth again, thanks to the Detective… "Look, Daniel, granted, sometimes you can be quite the douche. But you're a good man. Remember that. Hold on to it. That, not any guilt you may feel. Let Dad be the judge of that. After all, Dad knows he doesn't like to share things he considers his domain."

Daniel shook his head. "You're doing it again. Changing the subject."

Lucifer looked out of the window as they pulled into the precinct and mumbled, "I'm really not." He turned back. "Remember you owe me a favour. So now you'll do something for me in return. It won't be easy."

"OK."

"_Drop it._"

"Man –"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Then trust me on this." They'd come to a stop, and Daniel looked into his eyes as he turned off the engine. "Let this one go. Yes?" He gave Daniel his most intense stare. He wasn't trying to extract his deepest desire, but like the time he'd talked Daniel down from snuffing him out with Azrael's blade, he needed to press home the importance of the point he was making nonetheless.

"Lovely," he declared, and left Daniel gaping at him in the car.

-x-

Lucifer couldn't resist. It had been at the back of his mind, and he needed some respite after the torments Daniel had been inflicting on him. So he asked Linda at their next session, "What is the Detective saying about me with you?"

"You know I can't tell you that," she replied as he'd expected.

"Remember when we first met? I bet it's really juicy… You _want_ to tell me, don't you…?"

"Don't you _dare_ try that on me!"

Lucifer sat back as if she'd hit him. He lost the desire to try again. He looked her up and down for a power he hadn't known she had. But she was just ordinary Linda. When had he started to let humans have such control over him? He'd been away from Hell for too long.

"We're not here to talk about Chloe. We're here to talk about you. So… What's on your mind?"

"Well, I do have a little bit of a mystery maybe you can help me with. It's to do with Daniel."

"Daniel? You mean Dan, Chloe's ex? You know, we've only met a few times." She laughed. "I won't forget that time he drilled into your– _Anyhoo_… but sometimes I feel like I know him, what with you and Chloe. I saw him at Charlotte's funeral, but we didn't talk. She even wants to set us up on a date."

"Right," he said when she'd finished rambling. "Anyway, stupid Daniel got caught in a fire and I–"

"Was he hurt?"

"I thought we were talking about me? So," he said when he was satisfied she was listening, "as I was saying, stupid Daniel got caught in a fire and I–" He searched for the appropriate words that wouldn't give her the wrong idea. "And I pulled him out," he finally settled on.

"You saved him?"

"I pulled him out."

"Out of what? Where? What kind of fire are we talking about?"

"Inner city. Paradise Heights."

"The building that was on fire? I saw that on TV! He was in that? Wait. How did you–? Did you _fly_ him out?"

"I… might have done. Why are you doing that?"

"What?"

"Smiling. A creepy psycho smile."

"Lucifer." She sighed and moved her glasses up her nose. She was still smiling, but thankfully had dialled down the creepiness. "You're the Devil. And you saved someone's life."

"I've saved the Detective's life. More than once."

"She doesn't count."

Lucifer felt a rage rise up inside him. "Of course she counts! Are you suggesting her life is worth nothing?"

"No. Very much the opposite."

Lucifer turned his attention to the window in an effort to control the anger she'd stoked.

"This was different, wasn't it? Do you want to tell me how it made you feel?"

He continued gazing out of the window, for inspiration now.

"Good or bad?"

He hesitated. "Good." Quickly, he added, "I thought it might be my wings – though I've never felt like that before when they've been unfurled. Not even when I saved the Detective."

"But you were angry at the Sinnerman then, weren't you?"

"Oh yes," he told her, feeling it all again. "I wanted to follow him to Hell and give him what he truly deserved. If she hadn't seen my true face then, I think I would have, wounded wings or not."

But they'd already been over all that, and he had no wish to dredge it up again. "So," he said, trying to get back on track, "I did a lap around the blocks – very low key," he assured her. He shrugged and sighed. "Nothing." He'd never done someone a favour without the expectation it would be repaid, either in the future or instantly with the gratification he got from sex. And – thankfully – it wasn't the same rush he felt whenever he did anything for the Detective. He was at a loss.

And now Linda was doing it again. The smile that made her appear as though she was imagining how good he'd look wearing his intestines as a scarf.

"Look, I think you're making a bigger deal of this than it is. It was just Daniel."

"_Just_ Daniel? Isn't he your friend? So you know he would do the same for you?"

Lucifer blinked. "Fly up tall buildings?"

"Help you. Save you."

He looked at her in disbelief. "I'm immortal."

"Everybody needs saving sometimes, Lucifer, even immortal beings." He frowned. "OK – but hypothetically speaking… Let's say you're near Chloe. So you're vulnerable. Physically!" She choked on something.

"Are you all right? Should I fetch some water?"

"Fine." She cleared her throat then smiled, pulling her blouse straight. "So… you're _physically_ vulnerable. How about then?"

"I would hope _then_ that he'd save her first, of course."

"Right. OK. Let's say you're not together, just close."

"Again…"

But she wasn't yielding. "You're in danger, and she isn't."

"Then the _Detective_ would save me." He beamed as he imagined it. "She's always first on the scene!"

"OK." Linda closed her eyes and kneaded her temple. "Imagine you're in separate rooms. Like a hotel. Just try to imagine."

He tried. "A hotel?" He squinted at the picture in his head. "Are we on some kind of stakeout?"

"If you like."

"Then wouldn't we be in the same room, watching the bad guys? It doesn't make financial sense having two sets of equipment…"

"This is getting…" She took a deep breath. "My point is, the sentiment is the same…" – he pulled a face at the word 'sentiment' – "OK," she went on, "the _desire_ is the same."

"The same?" he said.

"Yes."

"Even though I'm immortal?"

She sighed. "Yes."

He gave her a sympathetic look. Poor Linda. She tried her best, but when it came to matters of immortality, she was all at sea.

"Have you ever saved anyone else's life?"

He humoured her, but he couldn't think of any… "Oh." He clicked his fingers. "There were the two chaps being held by that poison-happy maniac. He'd put deadly gas between them and us," he explained. "It was the only way I could get them out – once the Detective was far enough away." And then it occurred to him. "Ah – of course!" He hit his leg and laughed for not thinking of it before. "The Detective. I did it for the Detective then – she would have been upset if they'd died – so I must have saved Daniel for the Detective too." He crossed his legs and rested an arm along the back of the couch. "Mystery solved."

"Are you sure?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure you saved Daniel for Chloe?"

Of course he was sure. He cast his mind back to the fire… But try as he might, he couldn't remember when he'd thought of her. Not once. Not when he'd seen the fire on the television. Not during. Not until after, when he'd left Daniel unconscious at the hospital and thought to give her a call.

"Somebody's trying to manipulate me, Linda," he said, feeling unnerved as he stared out of the window.

"Why do you think that?"

"They're trying to make me reveal my wings." He looked at her. "They're trying to make everyone believe I'm something I'm not."

She didn't appear convinced.

But inside, he felt the familiar sparks of fury melting his worries away.

-x-

"Are they still suspects in the murders?" Lucifer asked Daniel in the conference room as they finished going through the pictures he'd taken of the drugs operation and linking it to the gang behind it.

"We're not discounting them. But the way Bowers and Foles died? Neither look like a gangland hit."

He cleared the table.

"Hey, pal," he said. "I was thinking over what you said the other day. In the car."

Oh, crap, thought Lucifer. Not again. He didn't think he could take any more. Daniel would make a splendid torturer, it turned out. "I thought that favour had been repaid, Daniel."

"Huh? No, I mean…" He coughed. "The other thing. About… guilt. It's hard to let go."

"Yes, well. That's the point."

"Especially when…" Daniel was dancing around something again. Lucifer refrained from prodding, this time. He'd learned his lesson the other day. But Daniel didn't need it, apparently. "I had someone killed," he said. Lucifer waited for the punchline. "With Maze." And suddenly there was no mistaking this for a joke. "It was the guy who got acquitted over Chloe's dad's murder. Perry Smith."

"I see," said Lucifer. "And why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's better to let it go, get it off my chest, like you said."

"But why are you telling _me _this?"

Daniel thought. "I – I –" He scratched his head and looked Lucifer up and down. "You're not gonna tell anyone, right?"

"No, Daniel. Your secret is safe with me." Harder to keep it from Dad, though.

"Thanks." But it seemed he wasn't in any hurry to leave. "I don't feel any better."

Lucifer sighed and looked through the glass walls. What could be keeping the Detective? She knew how much he hated the boring bits about playing cop. He leaned on the table to get a better view of the stairs.

"I don't get it," said Daniel. "Smith, he probably felt no guilt at all. None." The disgust in his voice was evident. "All those people he killed. And would have killed. But me – I can't shake it off. I guess Pierce was right. I'm the corrupt cop."

"Well, no sense worrying about it, Daniel. Because in my experience, the better the person, the more guilt they feel." He snorted. "One of Dad's little… Divine irony…" Why couldn't he breathe, suddenly? "Daniel. Why is the room swaying, is it an earthquake?"

"Hey, man, are you OK?"

Lucifer slumped into the chair Daniel scooted over. "Chloe's right," he breathed once he'd got his senses back. "How could I have been so blind? Doing the same thing. Day after day after day. Mindlessly. Without THINKING." His fist hit the table, sending liquid dribbling onto the floor from toppled cups. If he'd used his full strength, he'd have broken the cursed thing. He wouldn't have cared. Let the whole Earth crack.

"I'll get a water."

Lucifer grabbed his arm. "Whatever happens, I want you to know. It'll be all right. You have my word on that." He was burning up, in this tiny room. And it didn't help that Daniel looked more scared of him than he'd ever been.

Daniel freed his arm. "Just breathe, OK? Hang tight."

-x-

"Hey, dude, do you need to see a doc or something? Cos that's the second water in ten minutes."

Dan blinked at Ella. "It's not for me, it's for Lucifer." He spilled some of it in his haste and had to refill.

"Everything OK?"

Dan sighed heavily. "I think he just had some kind of panic attack. I've never seen him act like this. I don't know what to do."

"Let me." She reached for the cup.

"Are you sure? He was… intense. Nearly punched a hole in the table."

"Hey." She pointed both thumbs at herself. "Five brothers. I can handle."

Dan sighed in relief. "Thanks, Ella."

"No problemo."

-x-

"Hey, there." Ms Lopez peeped through the door. "I come bearing the elixir of life." She set the cup down in front of him.

Lucifer peered at the water and reached into his suit jacket for his flask.

"Have you tried meditation? Deep breathing? Yoga?"

Lucifer swallowed whisky. "What?"

"For the panic attacks."

"Oh. It wasn't a panic attack."

"Hey, lots of cool people have them." She pulled out a chair at the table and sat. "There's really nothing to be ashamed of."

"It wasn't a panic attack, Ms Lopez. It was more like an attack of the clichés." He tried to smile. "And… a bit of an existential crisis."

"Oh." She leaned over. "I have those too. Yeah. Except mine are usually at four in the morning."

Lucifer emptied the cup of water into the plant pot on the sill beside him and tipped his flask into it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not especially. But thank you."

"Well, you know my door is always open, right?" She was about to get up when Lucifer had a thought.

"Ms Lopez? Do you – I can't believe I'm saying this, but – Do you believe in Hell?"

"That's a controversial subject, buddy."

"Yes, so I've heard. So do you?"

"We-ell. Kinda, I guess."

"So what do you imagine it to be like? Not physically. I mean… the rules."

"Rules? Aha…" She stared thoughtfully out of the window in front of her, then glanced back at him. "You really wanna know?"

"Yes, I really want to know."

"OK. Well, for one thing, forget all that fire and brimstone baloney. Cos that's just a myth."

"Well, the fires are mainly ash. And the brimstone didn't match my cologne, so…"

"And the burning and wailing and torture stuff – heck, let's face it, they just say that to scare people, right?"

"So… your idea of Hell has no torture? That sounds… dull. But go on," he said, gesturing to her and settling back in his chair with his whisky-primed cup.

"Well – that's it."

"But you said 'for one thing'. Where's the rest of it? All you've said is I should just try boring the damned into submission. Which, may I point out, is still a form of torture. A shockingly inefficient one." He frowned in thought. "I think we only gave it a zero point five."

"To be honest, bud, I haven't ever really given it that much thought. I prefer taking things on faith."

"Marvellous. Well, you've been a great help. Hang on," he said as she got to her feet. "If your idea of Hell has none of all those… things you said – then what makes it Hell?"

"Oh, that's easy. Hell is being separated from God. But, hey" – she clapped him on the shoulder – "you and me have that all in the bag, right? I mean, the line might always be busy, but we know the big guy's looking out for us."

He forced a smile.

"Wait. Is this to do with your role?"

"No, Ms Lopez. For the umpteenth time, I am not a method actor. I mean, seriously, not even Al Pacino or Robert De Niro could sustain such a measure of self-deception for the length of time we've known each other."

"Cos a show about the Devil having an identity crisis… I would _so_ see that. I would _totally_ be into that."

"That's patently ridiculous, Ms Lopez. I do not have an identity crisis. Why would I have a problem being me? Every man wants to be me, and every woman wants to do me." He allowed himself a chuckle, but brought it to a swift end. "No, if there is a problem, it's with Hell."

"Well, I hope you get it fixed."

"Sorry?"

"For the show."

"Oh. Yes, of course. Oh, Ms Lopez? Just one final question. What do you think should happen next? In the hypothetical show, I mean."

"Ahuh. Let's see. He speaks to God?"

"Oh, well, that's never going to happen."

"Don't write it off so fast, bud. Maybe that's why you guys are stuck?"

"And what do you imagine happens when my crackbrained twin speaks to the almighty? Apart from deafening silence."

"Hey, I would love to write all of the plot… But aren't the producers paying a team of writers or something? Speaking of, I gotta get back to _my_ highly valued contribution to this crazy thing called humanity."

He let her leave. The precinct was busy today, and he watched her navigate through the crowd, depositing her cheeriness with anyone who looked her way. All those people out there, he knew where most of them were going – the place he never would. Ms Lopez: Heaven. Daniel: Well, Heaven eventually, if that proved possible, even if it took an eternity. He might have saved his life, but not his soul. And he kept his promises – even if they were Earth-shatteringly stupid, with no shred of evidence that they might be successful, and made rashly in the midst of an overexcited fever. And…

He instantly recognised the figure coming down the stairs, her ponytail bobbing around her face as she descended. He felt a sharp blade enter his sternum. As sharp as Azrael's blade. He recalled his own words to her at the place they'd found Charlotte's body. She will be going to Heaven, eventually. And he will never get to see her again.

Ever.

-x-

"I want you to give him a message. Tell him I won't stand for it any more." Some Scotch spilled on the bar in his penthouse as he poured. He needed more coke. He was already coming down. Not only did he need five times more than a human to get the same kick, it lasted only half as long.

He heard Amenadiel take a breath behind him. "Is this why you called me?"

"Sorry, where _are_ my manners?" Lucifer turned. "How's the Silver City since you returned? Blah, blah, blah. So will you tell him?"

"What's happened, Luci?"

"Oh, nothing much. Dad controlling me, watching me suffer. Just an average day. Do you want some, by the way?" He gestured to the last line on the bar. "This batch is terribly good."

"You're in pain."

Lucifer laughed. "You think?" He downed his glass and reached over the bar for a fresh bottle.

"Luci…" Amenadiel stepped next to him as he leaned over the bar. "I shouldn't… It's forbidden to tell you…" He took a breath. "When I returned…"

"Spit it out, brother. I've a new batch to start on this afternoon."

"Uriel."

Lucifer felt a twist in his heart. He didn't look up from the bar. "What about him?"

"There's a new star in the heavens."

Lucifer stared.

"We should have known that Father would not allow him to be destroyed." Amenadiel's smile cut into Lucifer. "Luci?"

Whether it was the coke, or the drink, or both, Lucifer began to laugh. It started in his throat, rising like a mournful cry, before rolling down to his belly, until the force of it had him shaking over the bar. The longer it went on, and the louder, the more it emptied his head wonderfully.

"Luci–?"

"Do you know why I was forbidden this knowledge, brother?" Lucifer smiled, lifted himself from the bar. "Hmm? You look confused, so I'll give you a clue. There is no pain I can endure that will ever be enough for him."

"That isn't true–"

"And as for not wanting Uriel to be destroyed… He was perfectly happy to destroy me."

"What – what do you mean?"

"Only Mum stopped him. If it hadn't been for her…"

"Mom?" Amenadiel's mind worked. "She told you that?" He shook his head. "Luci – of course Father was furious at first. But he would never–"

"Don't you _dare_!" Lucifer slammed his glass on the bar. "Don't you dare defend _him_, when she isn't here to defend herself."

"Father does not lie. You more than anyone understand that."

"And the truth can be twisted. I more than anyone understand that."

Amenadiel didn't seem to have an answer to that.

"Wake up, Amenadiel. Our beloved Father is not as perfect as you think he is. He's more devious than any of us. More depraved even than me."

"I can't talk with you when you're like this."

"Then GO! Go, before we have to settle this in combat. I should think Dad's had enough entertainment." But Amenadiel wasn't moving. "Didn't you hear me? I said PISS OFF!" And he reached for the closest bottle, turned back, and threw it into empty space where Amenadiel had been standing. It smashed against the wall, its contents dripping down the antique panels.

Yes, he'd entertained dear old Dad enough, for now at least. He decided to try out the new batch in the bath. He put on Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ and pulled a bottle from the bar to go with it.

When he woke, he was breathing in cold water. White powder bobbed in front of his eyes. How long had he been here? Beethoven had deserted him – just like he had by going to Heaven, the traitor. It was already late afternoon, judging by the light. Sitting up in the bath, he lifted his face through the scummy surface, his arm knocking a glass to the floor. The water really was bloody freezing. He coughed up the worst of it that was making him feel nauseous. He struggled to remember how he'd got here. Amenadiel. Uriel. The Detective.

Chloe Decker wasn't his prize. She was his punishment.

Dad had had it all lined up, from the moment Amenadiel had blessed her childless parents. And he – he had been the willing participant in his own downfall. Again. The perfect punishment, actually. It fit the crime in a way he hadn't seen coming. And now it was too late. He had to hand it to him. Dad was indeed more depraved than him – how could he have ever hoped to defeat such a sick, twisted mind?

"Hello, Dad," he said to the ceiling. "Wasn't winning enough?"

He pulled himself out of the bath, water swelling around its marble sides and leaving puddles on the heated floor at his feet. He wrapped his silk dressing gown around him, then cut another two columns of five lines beneath the wall-to-wall mirror. Might as well finish what's left. He snorted the first two lines and looked up at his face, framed by the dusky city skyline.

He raised his drug-heavy eyes further. "If you're even bothering to listen, I wasn't kidding about what I told Amenadiel. I really am not going to stand for it any more." He shivered in the wet dressing gown. Well, he'd soon dry off where he was going. He snorted seven more lines as he talked. "You've ruined retirement for me. So I'm officially coming out of it. I'm about to rip up the latest act of your play. It's about to lose its leading part. You can shove it. I'm not coming back, not this time. Not for a long, long time, anyway. I'm sure Hell's missed me. I'm not going back to seek your approval, by the way. I'm done with all that. Oh, and no more watching me suffer, I'm afraid. There at least I can do it in peace."

He snorted the last line, then unfurled his wings. They filled most of the mirrored wall.

"Bye, then, Dad. Shame you didn't have the balls to torment me to my face. You coward," he snarled. "You total pissing bastard!" And he smashed the mirror with his fist. The city skyline cracked, shards fell away as he withdrew his knuckle. Some clung on, at odd angles. He wished the Detective were near, so he could feel the pain. And then he noticed the light in one of the loosened shards.

"Mum?" he said automatically, because it was her celestial light. But then he thought – she was gone, and she wasn't coming back. So it had to be…

Crap.

Well, he'd done it now. One poke of the bear too many. The old man had finally come out of his cave.

For a brief second, as his wings were out, the thought crossed his mind to make a dash downwards before things got nasty. But he was a Devil, not a mouse, unlike dear old Dad. He held his ground.

As for Dad, if he didn't have a face, it'd make it harder to punch him. Typical of him, to think of that. He always knew how to load the dice in his favour. Oh, well. He straightened his back and lifted his chin. Time to face the music. Be a Devil. His wings brushed the counter as he turned.

And looked straight out of the window at the sunset. It was quite spectacular, how the sun was dipping between two skyscrapers. Which was odd.

Because this window faced east.


	4. Get Out There and Live, Darling!

**A/N: I wrote this entire fic before S4 dropped, so Eve here is different from canon Eve.**

* * *

"You seem happy today, Detective."

"Oh" – she sat up at her desk as Lucifer drew up a chair – "I had the best night. Yeah, I took Trixie and her friend with my new roommate Eve to the roller derby, and she loved it. How was your evening?""I watched the sunset."

"OK. That sounds… peaceful. Alone?"

"With Dad."

"Oh."

"Yes. It was a miracle."

"Scuse me?"

"The sunset was a miracle. From Dad."

"Yeah… I guess… I mean, I've definitely seen sunsets like that."

"No, Detective. This was an actual miracle. It was in the east," he added. "Sorry, I should have led with that, shouldn't I?"

"In the east? Are you sure it was east? Because your apartment is…" She pointed to the ceiling and traced a circle with her finger.

"I'm not a moron," he chuckled. "Yes, I nipped across to check the real sunset. I've never put much faith in my dad," he explained.

"Are you sure it wasn't a mirror? You do have a lot of them."

"It was outside the window, moving beyond the skyscrapers. _Beyond_," he said, raising a finger to stem her response, "not reflected in them. Unless you're suggesting there was a bloody great mirror on the hillside. In the sky." He thought. "Unless it was one of my siblings playing a joke on me."

"Do they do that a lot?"

"No. Not ever, actually. Not since I got kicked out of home."

"But when it's really bright, there is a kinda glow when there's cloud in the east, like a reflection, I guess."

"It wasn't a glow, Detective. It was the sun. You know, that big ball of fire in the sky? And before you say it, no it was not an air balloon, or a billboard, or a spaceship from the planet Zog." He sighed. "No wonder miracles don't happen as often as they used to."

"So it was…"

"A miracle, yes. A bone-fide miracle."

"Wow. That's…" She nodded. "And I saw the news this morning, and there was nothing about –"

"Well, it wouldn't be on the news, would it? No, only I saw it. Obviously."

"Uhuh."

"Miracles are very personal, Detective. They're between you and –" He looked her up and down and felt a pang of worry. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you. After all, it was meant to be just Dad and me." He glanced upwards. "Oh, well, no harm done," he said more cheerfully than he felt.

The Detective was tapping her pen thoughtfully on a file.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"I believe that you… believe…"

"You know I really am the Devil – and yet you still don't believe this. You really are curious."

"Seeing is believing."

"Yes, and I know what I saw."

"OK. Fine. It was a bone-fide miracle. And – I'm really happy for you." She slipped into thought again. "Did he… speak to you?"

"Baby steps, Detective. Baby steps."

"OK. Well." She shook her head and laughed. "I guess if God and the Devil can get along – then there's hope for all of us."

"Right – _one_" – he held up a finger – "'get along' is a smidge strong. More like… It was a pleasant evening watching the sunset. And _two_… What do you mean?"

"'There's hope for all of us'? I don't know… It's just a phrase."

"You're really big on this hope thing, aren't you?"

"Isn't everyone?"

"Not me. I've been without any hope for eons and eons. And I've turned out all right. Way more than all right, actually. I'm positively a role model for the downtrodden and hopeless."

She gave him a look. It was steeped with scepticism, but she looked as Heaven-sent as ever.

"Detective. It isn't the only miracle I've encountered in the last few years." He watched her school her face into a question. "There's you."

Her face softened. "That's… sweet."

"It's true. You're a miracle."

She nodded sympathetically, and reached a tentative hand towards his arm. She didn't believe him on this one either, did she? But the more important question was, should he help her to?

-x-

Though Linda would probably wet herself trying to deconstruct it, he decided not to share the sunset miracle with her too, in case Dad got upset. But he did want to talk about the other miracle.

"She's a miracle to me," he ended. "And that's enough."

Linda was quiet, and he turned to look. If he wasn't mistaken – and he had to admit, he rarely was – it looked suspiciously like she was right in the middle of committing the sin of pride.

Because he'd thought of that, hadn't he? All by himself. And what's more, this time, he didn't have to ask to know it was right.

-x-

He watched the Detective prepare the coffee. She snorted. "The Devil is in my kitchen. I'm making coffee for the Devil."

"Are you going to say that in every sentence?"

"It's OK for you. You don't know how weird it is."

"I'm sitting in a _human's_ kitchen. I'm having coffee made for me by a _human_."

"OK. Point taken." She fiddled in a drawer. "You know… No, you're gonna think I'm crazy."

"I'm the Devil, Detective. I think no one is crazy."

"Well." She brought over two mugs and sat opposite him at the breakfast bar. "When I was little, Mom and Dad would take me camping. It was so beautiful at night. Dad would point out all the constellations, tell me stories about each one. And when they were asleep, I'd sneak out and just lie there gazing up at the stars, I don't know how long, hours. I just never tired of it. I stared at them so hard, I used to think I could walk among them. I'd go back to school and tell everyone how I walked between the Bear and the Sickle." She laughed.

He let a moment pass in silence. "You're a _starwalker_?"

"I'm a … _Really?_ That's a thi–? You dick," she said when he could no longer stop his straight face from crumbling. She flushed an adorable shade. "You absolute dick. Bad news for you you can bleed around me, cos I am so gonna kill your ass." She lowered her voice. "You're lucky Trixie's here, or I so would."

"Hah, urchins serve a purpose after all!" He drank to that. Shame it was just coffee.

"So you really can bleed… get hurt… only when I'm near? How near?"

"You may find this hard to believe, but I've never actually measured."

"There's a lot of things I'm finding hard to believe suddenly." She glared at him over the mug she was hugging. "And you're not helping."

"Apologies," he said, but was careful not to promise never to do it again.

"So that started when I shot you?" She squinted in thought. "That long?"

"That long what?"

She studied him, but said nothing.

"Mommy, I did another drawing!" The child hurtled into the room. Lucifer tensed. Did every small human have defective brakes? But she was headed for the Detective, clutching a sheaf of paper.

"Let's see, Monkey. Who is it?"

"Adam and Eve."

Lucifer peered. If you discounted Adam's disproportionately long arms, and their clothes – the fact that they had any – it was… "Uncannily accurate."

The Detective gaped at him, then back down at her offspring's handiwork.

"Most humans depict her as a blonde, which she most definitely was not."

"Eve helped me," said the child before turning and hurtling back to where she'd come from.

"Oh!" The Detective laughed in relief. "Oh, she just means my new roommate."

"Who looks like this?" asked Lucifer, pointing. "Does she have a perfectly smooth stomach? No navel," he explained at her bemused look.

"I don't know, Lucifer. Should I ask her – 'Hey, are you out of the Bible, like –'"? She stared up at him.

"Like Cain?" Lucifer finished for her.

She shook her head. "It can't be… it's just a…"

"Coincidence? In my experience, there's no such thing." He looked her up and down. "Not where you're concerned." But before he could think further, the child was back, coming to a frightening stop at his side.

"I did a drawing of Lucifer too."

He plucked the sketch from the small hand and feigned interest. The simplistic face contained an upturned semicircle so large it wasn't even preternaturally possible. But the crude figure was standing next to an equally crude one, with blonde hair in a ponytail and holding a gun in one hand and in the other a scribbly square that if you squinted at and had several clues you might just about guess was a police badge.

"Why am I there too, honey?"

"Because Lucifer is always helping you."

The Detective held Lucifer's gaze. He didn't realise the child was still there until the Detective spoke. "Munchkin, I think we'll have to make some room on the wall for these. What do you think, we'll do that later? Do you want me to fix you a milkshake?"

The child nodded and disappeared again. The Detective got up and busied herself at the counter.

Lucifer looked down at the substandard picture. The amateur way the smile went outside the limits of his cock-eyed counterpart's face. The way its balloon-fingered hand stuck out at forty-five degrees next to the other figure's identical hand, almost touching, but not quite. "Where are the horns and tail?"

He'd said it half-joking, but the Detective, holding a glass of frothy brown liquid, paused to consider him. "Trixie draws what she sees," she said, and left to tend to her needy offspring.

Lucifer observed the picture. He checked the doorway where the Detective had gone, then folded the paper in half, then into four – and checking the door again, he carefully slid the child's drawing inside his suit jacket.

-x-

"Patrick, pour the lady in white a martini – apple."

"You remember!" She turned a joyous smile on him.

"Of course. You never forget your first. Eve. How's it hanging?" From what he could see of her, everything seemed to be hanging very well.

"This place." She looked around in wonder like she'd never seen the inside of a nightclub before. "You've made your own Eden. In LA."

"Well, I try." Patrick brought her drink. "Where's Adam?"

She sipped. "He wouldn't be seen dead a hundred yards near a place like this."

"Ah yes, I forgot. The man who invented the word 'vanilla'. So you've ditched him?"

"Like I could! We've been married for God knows how long."

Lucifer rolled his eyes upwards. "He is probably counting, you know. What is this, then? The forty-century itch?"

"I heard you were here."

"Ah…" He faltered. "This isn't about me killing your son, is it? Because I had good reason. He'd killed someone I knew and was threatening someone else."

She gave him an even look. "You mean the son who murdered my other son?"

Lucifer regarded her for a second, then grinned. "Fair point. To old friends, then?" He raised his Scotch, and they drank, her smile matching his.

"Love what you've done with your hair, by the way," he said. "More revealing now it isn't down to your groin. Well, it would be, if it weren't for those pesky clothes. Back then, I practically begged Dad for a gentle wind. Gave a whole new meaning to the phrase 'a stiff breeze'. Ah – happy days."

"We can be happy again."

Lucifer smiled.

"Speaking of clothes," she went on, "I like yours, but… they just don't feel right, between you and me."

Lucifer grinned.

"Maybe," she said, "we can go somewhere… more private?"

"Eve. Your wish – as always – is my command." And he showed her to the elevator.

The doors hadn't even closed when she started to undo his belt.

"What are you doing, Eve?" he said, both exhilarated and concerned by her haste. "This is exactly what got us both into trouble the last time. Well, more specifically your invention of fruit-based splooshing."

"I don't recall you wearing a belt – or anything else – the last time." She slid her hands up as the elevator rose. "You know, clothes are actually really sexy. When they're taken off" – she undid a shirt button – "one" – and another – "by one."

"You didn't learn this from Adam, did you?"

"What are you implying?" She stopped undoing his buttons, removed her hands. "I haven't been with anyone else. Apart from you."

"You expect me to believe that? In all this time?"

"Hey, there's such a thing as porn." She put her hands back onto his chest. "I tried to get him to watch it with me." She looked at him sulkily. "He usually falls asleep. Once he stops laughing. Anyway," she said, "everyone on Earth is my descendant. It would be weird."

"Fair point."

"I've never been tempted."

"You've changed."

"I forgot what a devilish sense of humour you have. I'm glad all that time in Hell hasn't dampened your spirits."

"Oh, believe me, most of the people there are a riot. Yes, Genghis Khan may have struck fear into the hearts of his enemies while alive, but these days he slays with puns instead of arrows."

Thankfully, they'd reached his penthouse, and Lucifer made straight for the bar. His lips almost touched whisky when she pulled the glass out of his hand.

"Haven't you had enough?" she said. "Plenty of time for that later."

She spotted the bedroom. With a grin, she pulled him with her, practically tore his shirt off as they kissed, then pushed him onto the bed.

"Down girl!"

She grinned. "Don't mind if I do." And she slid down.

"Now," he said breathlessly, "I usually… prefer giv– Well, all right, just this once."

He gave as good as he got. Better.

"Wow," she said, not bothering with the bedclothes, as naked as the day he'd met her. "That was good. I mean better than I remember."

"I should think so," he said, caressing her, readying to go again. "I've had plenty of practice with your offspring." He stopped still. "I think I've just killed the mood."

She helpfully moved his hand down her stomach.

"Does anyone notice that?" he asked as he felt the absence of her naval.

"They think I've had cosmetic surgery. It's amazing what people will turn a blind eye to, even when it goes against everything they're told."

"Tell me about it. Seven years and only two humans on the planet believe me when I say I'm the Devil."

"Who's the other one?"

"Ah – that's right, you're the Detective's new roommate, aren't you?"

"She likes talking about you. Well, someone who shares your name. A nightclub owner, like you. But who is he? She doesn't talk about the real you. Why?"

"Because she doesn't know you're from the Bible?"

"Or because she doesn't know you?"

"Oh, she does. She's seen _all_ my ugly bits now."

"Really? Anyway, it's three. Three humans believe you're the Devil. Four if you count Adam."

"Must we? Actually, I wasn't counting immortals."

"We're not immortal."

"What?" Lucifer stared. "What moisturiser do you use?"

"We can die, we just don't age. We were never meant to in Eden, remember? And we've been careful. Adam's very careful. Very."

"What exciting lives you must lead. How do you know you can die?"

"It's not like we haven't nearly, lots of times. This is where I got impaled skiing." She pointed to a scar on her left side.

"You can ski?"

"That was the last time. And this" – she held out her right arm, a red mark running down the length of the inside – "is where a carriage ran into me. That one got Adam really worried."

"Carriage? Don't you mean car?"

"No, a carriage. It was the horse that could have killed me. If it had been just a few inches to the side."

"Right," said Lucifer, wondering just how sheltered a life she'd been leading. It sounded like Adam had been keeping her in a prison.

"Adam said he was in a tunnel with a light, once. Thought it might be Heaven."

"Not unless they've been doing some serious landscaping while I've been away."

"Hell?"

"Tunnels, yes. Lights at the end of them? Not so much. Well," he said, getting up and putting on his dressing gown, "that was delightful! We really must do it again some time."

Her face fell. "Sick of me already?"

"Of course not, darling. I just…" He chuckled, tickled by her eagerness, but also a little disconcerted. He remembered how clingy she could get. Or was he misremembering, since they'd hardly had their pick of partners back then?

"You're tired of me talking about Adam, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm wondering where he is… exactly?"

"He's the biggest homebody."

"Oh dear. Sad for someone who used to call Paradise home."

"He didn't want to come to LA. Or even America."

Now that she mentioned it, he noticed she still had much of the old Sumerian accent. Strange, after all this time. "Twat," he said, of Adam.

"He's my husband."

"Did Dad give you a choice? World's first arranged marriage, darling."

"He's loyal. Which is more than I can say for you."

"I'm not big on loyalty. Ask Dad. Anyway, you started… swelling up."

"I was pregnant."

"You know how I feel about small humans. It was frightening."

"Pregnancy isn't frightening."

"I was talking about the small human."

"I love him."

Lucifer was shocked to feel a pang of jealousy.

"I love you too," she said with a smile and, kneeling on the bed, she placed her hand on his face. "I guess I was made to love him, wasn't I? But I _chose_ to love you."

Lucifer felt his mood returning. He threw off his dressing gown, wearing only a grin.

-x-

They slept all morning, and after lunch in his apartment caught up on some of the millennia they'd missed – she wanted to know all about Hell and the fun he'd had on Earth – followed by dinner on the balcony and another trip to pound town.

The next day, as it was a Saturday, he decided to treat her to some of the fun that party-pooper-pants Adam had denied her.

"Can't believe I'm saying this, but… enough about me. Today is all about Eve!"

"But can't we stay here?" she asked as he practically dragged her into the elevator. "We've been having fun, haven't we?"

"Get out there and _live_, darling!"

"I might die."

"Oh, you will," he said cheerfully. "One day. But what's important before you do is _living_."

Once he'd got her in his convertible and he'd settled in next to her, she started to relax.

"Hold on to your sunhat, darling." He sped through the streets, showing her the sights.

"You know how to live!" She hugged his arm while clinging on to her wide-brimmed hat. "Is this the longest you've been on Earth?"

"Oh yes. I'm retired."

She actually gasped. "You don't know how happy that makes me!"

He patted her hand as she gazed into his eyes.

"Where are we now?" she asked as they pulled into the airport.

"Well," he said, smiling as he spotted the private jet he'd hired, "if I'm to give you the best nights on the town, we shall have to get you some new glad rags. And where better than the best shopping experience the world has to offer?"

From the minute they landed in New York, he made sure they did all the best clichés. He dragged her from one to the next, then watched her face light up in joy as she tried on dress after dress in a succession of high-class shops, her bags increasing in number as the day went on. Her neck and wrists brightening with the finest jewellery. He was delighted that she didn't seem to tire.

When the evening came, and after dinner at the best restaurant in the city – he called in a favour in lieu of a reservation – he surprised her with tickets to the opera.

"_Faust_?" It seemed the smile she had been wearing all day was now permanently fixed. "You had to pick the one about you."

"Well, I was hardly going to plump for _Joseph_, was I?"

They almost had sex in the box. He managed to convince her to wait until the Penthouse Suite at The Mark – another favour repaid at short notice.

They made full use of its facilities, leaving divinity in every one of its five King- and Queen-size bedrooms.

The next day, he called in yet another favour. "Tickets to the New York Yankees!"

"Is that baseball? I didn't know you liked sport."

"Oh, I don't. Only water sports. But you haven't lived till you've seen this. Thousands of humans crammed together, all baying for blood. I mean, it's not throwing Christians to the lions, but beggars can't be choosers."

She was every bit as exhilarated as he'd hoped. And then – was this a sign from Dad? – the kisscam fell onto them. Actually, it was hardly surprising, he thought, admiring himself on the big screen. She was wearing the next biggest grin to his, and they were the best-dressed couple in the entire stadium. She didn't know what was going on, so he took her in his arms. What the hell.

He kissed her like the first time. When his Father had been powerless to stop it.

His whole body groaned under the eyes of all these humans. Every one of them outcasts because of his and Eve's tryst.

He couldn't bear it any more.

"Aren't we staying for the rest of the game?" asked Eve as he dragged her through the crowds towards the exit. The camera had moved on long ago.

Fortunately, he'd had the foresight to put the roof up on the car he'd hired, in case it rained that afternoon. It might have done, but they wouldn't have noticed, as they were busy making their own sport inside.

Dusk had fallen when he came back laden with tacos and shakes. She was lying on the car hood, looking up at the sky. "I thought of bringing ribs," he said with a grin, "but realised it'd be in bad taste."

She patted the hood next to her for him to join her. "Remember when you pointed them all out to me?"

"What?" He dumped the bag of nourishment on the passenger seat.

"The stars of course."

He stopped with one palm on the hood, cold against his skin except where his ring was. "That was a long time ago."

"Aren't you still proud of the light you brought? You've spent too long in Hell, in the dark."

"Yes, well, I'm retired now. As I said."

"So…" She reached for his hand.

He pulled it away and moved around to the driver's side. "We'll be late for our plane back." He got into the car.

"Already?" She sighed, but followed him, smiling as she tucked into a taco, sucking on a straw at the same time.

-x-

On the plane back to LA, she couldn't stop trying on all the clothes he'd bought her.

"Aren't you getting tired?" He certainly was. Whenever he got away from Hell every few decades, he always tried to pack in as much fun on Earth as he could before Amenadiel came a-calling. But it was as if Eve had spent millennia in Hell without a break.

She fell into a seat and gazed happily out of the window at the night-lit cities below.

"What second name are you going by, anyway?" He poured himself another drink.

"Adam decided on Gardner."

He snorted. "Never was the imaginative sort, was he? Gosh, he really is Mr Obvious. Should have gone with that."

"Are you all alone here?"

"On Earth? I had my best demon, Maze. She's gone back home. And there was Mum. She's gone too. And Amenadiel – don't know about him – he comes and goes when he feels like it. He's Dad's favourite, you know."

"You're his most beloved. Remember?"

He hadn't. Or he had, but remembered also how he'd thrown it all away. "Didn't I tell you all this the other day? Don't you know all about Maze from the Detective?"

"It's you she likes talking about the most."

"Right. I mean, who wouldn't? Look, just don't go asking her too many questions. Or she'll get suspicious. I've already planted a seed, unfortunately," he said, thinking of the child's drawing of Adam and Eve, which would now be pinned to the Detective's wall.

Eve gave him a playful look. "Remember the time we planted that apple core?"

He grinned. "Indeed. I don't think Dad was expecting you to put it _there_."

She considered him. "He envies you."

"Who? Dad?" He laughed.

"Because you just do whatever you want to do. How else do you explain why he lets bad things happen to good people?"

He stared at her over his Scotch with a dubious smile. "Somebody's become philosophical in their old age."

She shrugged. "Just bored. And he's afraid of you."

He chuckled. "Yes."

"That you'll reject his love again."

He stopped chuckling. "Eve, I think you've had too much excitement these last few days. Why not try to get some sleep, hmm?"

"You know why you and he never got along? Because, of all his children, you reminded him most of himself."

She'd crossed the line. "I am not like my Father!" He turned his head to rid himself of the sudden tension. The plane's engines hummed. "Enough talk of him," he said a second later. "Let's not spoil the whole evening."

He smiled as she tried on another hat and did a twirl for him in the aisle.

-x-

Five hours in the air, and still she didn't want to stop.

She dragged him down to the club, in the last throes of a boisterous night. "I remember when you only had eyes for me," she said as they passed a bevy of beautiful young women.

"Be reasonable, dear, you were literally the only woman on Earth." He ordered a whisky. "And I wasn't into men then. I mean, don't get me wrong, if you'd said no…" He smiled at a fitty who was approaching him with a familiar look. But the chap walked right by him. Lucifer twisted his head, only to see him slavering over Eve's dress. "The lady's not interested."

Eve gazed at him around the man's stubborn shoulder. He thought he saw her smile. "Who says?" And now she did smile as she raised her hand and drew her fingers through the man's hair.

"But he's your…" Lucifer gave up and turned back to the bar. Let her do it if she desired. He ordered another drink and tried to distract himself by figuring out how many greats separated them. But he couldn't be bothered with the maths.

He glanced back across the floor, once. And saw it was no longer just the two of them. Two more men had joined them, and they seemed to be vying for her attention, pawing her flesh and drooling over her dress. She was smiling at them, encouraging them. It was unseemly, and he felt a twinge of jealousy. He almost let her be – she appeared to be enjoying it – then he caught her laughing eyes slide in his direction.

"Now, look, I'm all for an orgy," he said, after striding over to their little party.

"Who are you?" said one of them.

"My boyfriend," said Eve. "He's super bad."

"Really?" said the same man, sizing Lucifer up. Clearly, he was a moron.

"Darling, they want me to go with them. Should I? They were quite… insistent." Eve tugged her dress up over her cleavage with both hands, and blushed at Lucifer.

"Were they now?"

He got hold of the moron by the neck and pinned him to the wall several inches off the floor. He clawed uselessly at Lucifer's hand. "When Eve tells you I'm bad, you really ought to take her at her word. Because believe me, you don't want to see just how bad I can be." Lucifer flashed his anger through his Devil eyes.

Satisfied with the fear in the moron's face, he dropped him to the floor. He watched him scurry away with his friends.

"Come along, darling." He took Eve by the arm. "At this time of night it tends to be mostly the dregs still hanging around looking for fun."

She slipped herself out of his hold. "Why did you just let them go?"

He stared. "What did you want me to do?"

"Don't you think they deserve to be punished?"

He laughed. "Punished for what? A bit of harmless fun?"

"Couldn't you smell it on them?"

"Smell what? Cheap aftershave?"

"They – you don't know what they said to me."

"Well? What did they say?"

She looked at the floor. "I'm embarrassed to tell you."

Lucifer laughed in disbelief, but she seemed serious. "Eve, darling. You've had an interesting experience with a bunch of morons. That's all. No harm done, hmm?" He lifted her chin gently.

She gave him a smile.

He returned it. "That's better."

"But you would have punished them if they'd tried anything, wouldn't you?"

He looked at the sincerity in her face. "You know me."

"I do!" Her smile lit her eyes. "I knew you would."

-x-

"Look at you, smartening yourself up."

"I'm due at the station, darling. I'm a consultant. They'd be lost without me." He buttoned up his shirt.

She was still naked. It seemed she preferred it that way.

"Wait here, if you like. There's plenty drinks, and Patrick can get you anything else you desire."

"But how long will you be?"

"That depends on how much I'm needed. Could be all day."

"You like spending time with her, don't you?"

He fixed his cufflinks and turned to her. "Dad put her in my path. We've been through this. I'm only playing along with it."

"Why?"

"Look, she's not to blame for Dad's need to be a control freak." He checked his hair in the floor-length mirror.

"Chloe wants you to be a perfect angel. She loves you for something you're not. I love you for who you are." She came up behind him and folded her arms around his chest. Then moved her hands down.

He watched her in the mirror. "Well… maybe they can cope one hour without me."

-x-

"What took you? You missed all the fun."

Lucifer turned to the Detective. "What fun?"

"We brought the would-be drug lords in. You know, the ones started the fire nearly killed Dan. We're trying to find out just how much we can lay on them. Bastards brought along their fancy lawyers."

"That's not why I'm here, is it? Didn't you say in your message you were interviewing someone?"

"Claire Foles's father-in-law. Finally turned up. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Wonderful," he said in a level voice. "Is it my rebirthday?"

She gave him a bruised look. "Sorry I bothered." She frowned. "Everything OK? Good weekend?"

"Marvellous!"

"Listen, uh, I haven't seen you for a few days. Do you… want to come to mine tonight for something to eat? Trixie's at her friend's, and my roommie's visiting her mom."

"Her mother? Is she indeed?"

"So...?"

"Can't tonight. Sorry. I've got a d– appointment. With an old friend. A very, very, very old friend. Raincheck?"

"Sure. Anyway," she said, fiddling with her ponytail over her shoulder, "I have plenty of things to do while Trixie's not around. Dan helped bring them in."

"Hmm?"

"The gangsters?"

"Oh." He chuckled. "Did he do a Dan and race in there on his own again?"

"You're in a strange mood." She was frowning again.

"How?"

"Dunno. Mean."

"Not even close, I'm afraid. So, where is he? Foles Senior?"

"He's in there stewing–" She looked at the interview room.

"You mean he's in there now? What are we dillydallying out here for?"

"What, the Devil has people to see? Thought you'd be super excited with all these bad guys here today."

"Surprising how little you know me."

"Yeah," she said. "I'm beginning to wonder."

He flung open the interview room door. The sixty-year-old man at the table choked on the paper cup at his mouth.

"OK, Mr Foles," said the Detective as she took her seat, "we'll get straight to the point. As my partner here is in a hurry. Your neighbours said they saw you leave and return home alone the morning your daughter in law was killed. But you told us your son was with you the whole day, at your house, helping you clear out your garage. Why did you lie to us?"

"Because he wouldn't have an alibi otherwise–" Foles inhaled. "_Dammit_."

"Oh, well, that was easy," said Lucifer. "Can I go now?"

She glared at him. "Mr Foles, why do you think your son needs an alibi? Do you believe he murdered Claire?"

"No!"

"He had a motive, didn't he? When she got herself fired, his life was turned upside down."

"You don't have any evidence, do you? No prints, no DNA?"

She looked down at her notes in lieu of a reply.

"That's because he didn't do it."

"If you're so sure, then why lie?"

"He's my son. I love him no matter what."

"No matter what? Then you _do_ think he had the motive? Mr Foles?" she pressed when he didn't respond.

"Sure, he said some stuff."

"Mr Foles, just because we can't get the DNA to match your son's, doesn't mean he wasn't involved. He could have had an accomplice. Anything you can tell us will help us find Claire's killer."

He stared at the table, taking large breaths as he thought. "Do you have kids?" When she didn't answer, he turned to Lucifer. "Do you?"

"Gosh, no, I despise children! But the Detective has one."

She gave him a hard look.

"Then you get it," said Mr Foles.

"My daughter is eight."

"You haven't hit the teens yet. That's the toughest time. An exercise in patience. Forgiveness." He looked at Lucifer. "It's tough, letting them go. But you have to give them their own space. Let them make their own mistakes. You have to be hard on them. So they can grow." He continued gazing at Lucifer as the silence lengthened.

"Does that forgiveness extend to murder?" Lucifer asked at last.

Foles blinked. "The alibi was my idea. He's all I've got. His mom ran off when he was young. She came back two or three times asking for money. He helps me out now, since my arthritis got worse."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the Detective. "But your son is an adult now. And you're still protecting him."

"You'd do the same. Wait till your kid grows up. Just because they get older doesn't mean you stop loving them. You never stop loving them, no matter–" Seeing the Detective's sympathy was dwindling, he appealed to Lucifer again. "No matter what he's done, I'll never stop loving my son."

Lucifer glared back in disbelief. "Not even though he might be a murderer? Not evil enough for you?"

"He's my son."

"Then you're a fool." Red misted his vision for a flash.

"Lucifer!" She was staring at him. "Outside."

He left a lingering glare on the man before he followed her out.

"What the he– What just happened in there?"

"The man is an idiot. Defending the indefensible."

"I don't know where you're at today."

"Where I'm _at_?"

"What zone you're in."

"What _zone_?"

"Look, just stay out here and calm down, OK? Or go home. Or wherever it is you have to be."

She went back into the room. He didn't feel like going home, not immediately anyway. He felt fine.

He straightened his cuffs as he watched a group of men in suits, some blue, some pinstriped black, enter the floor, accompanied by police officers.

He couldn't help admiring the way they were clearly trying to butter up the cops, perhaps attempting to bribe them. He wondered about the officer, the traffic cop, he himself had bribed just before he'd met the Detective. He hadn't run into him again. Maybe he'd bought himself something too pretty to come back to work for. Maybe he'd got a taste for it – pretty things _and_ bribery – he thought with a cold smile.

The door opened behind him. "Feel better now?" asked the Detective.

He snorted. "I've never felt better, Detective." He hadn't. He'd had an extremely pleasurable weekend. It was just the kind of thing he'd left Hell for. Funny that he'd lost sight of that, for some reason. Shouldn't she be happy for him?

"Well," she said, oblivious to his resurgent happiness, "a couple of days ago, Claire's husband admitted he was home alone all day till he went to the restaurant to start his shift that afternoon. Working on his screenplay. Hence why his father gave him an alibi. And it's doubtful he would have got someone else to kill her – if he had, he would have made sure he had a better alibi than that. And the money."

"Can he prove he was at home?"

"We're checking into it." She shook her head. "I wish he'd told us this earlier, him and his father."

"Could be another lie."

She sighed. "I see the pyromaniac drug lords are back."

She sized up the two suited criminals currying the favour of her colleagues. Wearing shades and slick smiles, they looked even more dapper than their expensive lawyers.

But their suits were clearly off the rack, Lucifer thought, smoothing down his own tailored one.

The Detective snorted. "Doesn't matter how charming and respectable they try to make themselves appear on the outside – on the inside, they're still monsters."

Suddenly cold, Lucifer stared after her as she walked away.

-x-

"Now, look," he told Eve in the club as the evening started to peak, "don't keep calling me your snake. That creature, you know, it just sort of started hanging around all the time. And then I didn't have the heart to send it packing." He went misty-eyed. "I wonder what happened to the poor little mite?"

"It bit me!" She pointed.

"On your boobies?" He grinned.

"Don't act like you don't know. You probably told it to."

"I don't speak snake, my dear. I'm the Devil, not Voldemort."

"Who? My serpent, then. It's apt. You can do wicked things with your tongue."

"I'd lay off the juice, darling, if I were you."

"I haven't been drunk for centuries. Adam doesn't like it."

"Adam this, Adam that. Do you do everything he says? You were like that with God, once, and look where that got you."

"Paradise?"

"Er – yes, well. Call it what you like. Hell, Paradise, what's the diffy?" He chuckled.

"This music's too loud. Let's take this upstairs."

He smirked. "I wish! Oh, you mean my apartment? As you desire."

But just as they were turning, he spotted a familiar face by the bar.

"Linda! What brings you to the best club in town?"

"I'm on a date."

"Oh. Oh! Not Daniel, is it?" He grinned, looked around the crowd.

"No. Blind date – well, I wish it had been. He's drop-dead gorgeous. But, it turns out, totally shallow. All 'me, me, me'. I get enough of that at work." She laughed at Eve, but she didn't get it.

"Well," said Lucifer, "good for you, shaking him off. Drop-dead gorgeous, you say? And suddenly free…" His eyes moved back to the crowd.

"Linda," Eve said as she considered her. "I don't think Lucifer's mentioned you."

"Oh," said Lucifer, ordering more drinks, "Linda's the other one. And my therapist."

"Other one what?" Linda asked.

"The other human."

"Other human what?" Linda asked.

Eve said as Lucifer gathered the drinks from the bar, "He doesn't talk about you as much as he does her."

"Her?"

"Chloe."

"OK. Have you and Lucifer known each other long?"

"Oh, we go way back. I popped his cherry."

Lucifer spluttered laughter and put a hand on her back. "TMI, Eve!" He felt himself go warm under the hot club lights.

"Oh. Oh!" exclaimed Linda, the penny dropping on the 'what' in the 'other human what'. "Eve. _Eve_, Eve? Of Adam and Eve?"

Eve's smile vanished. "We're not a double act."

Linda squinted. "Kind of are."

"Ladies, ladies!" Lucifer sensed the tension. "Let's not squabble." He looked between the two women he'd had the pleasure of. "Unless you want to."

"Darling," said Eve, "I'm getting too hot in these clothes."

"Ah –" He turned to Linda. "Not used to clothes." He chuckled. "Would you mind terribly if we love you and leave you?"

"Oh, um, sure. I'll get back to my date, if he hasn't found a better offer. Or if I can't find one. It was… nice to meet you, Eve. I'll see you tomorrow, Lucifer?"

"Oh, ah – yes, of course. Look forward to it!"

"I don't think she likes me," Eve said as they left the floor. "I don't like her either."

"Linda? She's a lovely human. One of the best I know."

"She doesn't smell right."

"Do you mean figuratively or literally?" He'd never noticed Linda smelling of anything. Except sometimes spackle.

They were barely out of the elevator and Eve was naked again.

He joined her on the bed.

"Now you see me – where are you?" She cupped his face in both hands.

He chuckled. "I'm right here, Eve."

But instead of undressing him, she caressed his face, working and pressing it with her fingers as if it were a creature in itself, a pet of hers, or a toy. She brought her own face closer to his. He thought she wanted to kiss him, but her mouth went to his ear, her warm cheek touching his, while one hand continued to stroke heat into his other cheek. "Where are you, my serpent?" she whispered.

"Stop!" He sat up, sending her falling to the side of the bed. He didn't need to ask her what she was doing. He knew all too well. He remembered now, with a sick feeling, as if he'd had to drag those ancient memories out.

"Why?" she asked, and he looked at her in disbelief.

"It's hurt people I know."

"But your face only hurts people who deserve to be hurt – that's what you used it for, in Hell, wasn't it? It never hurt me."

"That was before Hell, before any soul was there. You know what it meant to me before."

"That you thought you were a monster," she said as though it were merely a fact. "God made you feel like that, when he cast you out. I never thought you were. It didn't matter to me." She reached out to his face. Lucifer flinched away. She tried again, more gently, and this time he let her. "I want to see you, my love."

Lucifer was unable to pull his gaze away from her eyes as she petted his face. He felt her draw it out of him. He couldn't stop it. Even if he'd wanted to.

Her smile lit up his desire. "There you are."


	5. Just the Two of Us

"She really gets me." Lucifer gazed out of the doctor's window.

"Well," said Linda, "I only met her for, like, a second. Does she really have no belly button?"

He turned his gaze on her. He hardly knew why he was here, really, except it was their usual appointment.

"Do you want to tell me what she means to you?"

"Quite simply, she inspired my ability to learn humans' deepest desires. When I first saw her, I wanted so strongly to give her anything she wanted. So first I had to learn what she most desired. And then I helped her achieve it."

"And now? What does she mean to you now?"

He shrugged. "She's the only one who loves me for who I am. Not just the only human. The only anything."

"And that makes you happy?"

He thought she said it like a dirty word. "Why shouldn't it?"

"Are you sure it's love? What about Adam?"

"He had her locked up. Is that love?"

"Why did he do that?"

"For her own safety. Because she's mortal."

"I guess that's a kind of love. Isn't it?"

"She couldn't live!" Linda remained silent under his indignation. "She sought me out. She was in her own hell of a sort. Now we're both free."

"Do you love her?"

"I'd give her anything she wants."

"That's not the same."

He scoffed. "Well, it's good enough for her. And the best thing is," he added, "I know I won't lose her forever when she dies."

"What do you mean?"

He looked at her. "What do you think I mean?" He let it hang there. Sometimes he had the feeling the doctor too often forgot who he was.

"Are you worried about losing someone?"

"Actually," he said, "the best thing is, I don't bleed when I'm around her. So I can do whatever I damn well want. And to whoever I want."

"What do you mean, to whoever you want? Lucifer. You're not doing anything… reckless, I hope?"

"Me, reckless?" He laughed.

"OK," she said. "You have a lot of history. You think she knows you. But it was a long time ago. Don't you think you both might have changed since you last saw her?"

"She doesn't _want_ me to change. That's the beauty of her. Doctor, why do I get the feeling that you and I aren't on the same page today?"

"All right. OK. I'm sorry. Let's talk some more about your feelings for her."

Lucifer sighed.

"Love – real love – sometimes means letting go. That takes a great deal of courage. You understood that, didn't you, when you saw Chloe was happy with Pierce?"

"He was using her! He tried to kill her!"

"That's beside the point. You didn't know that at the time."

Lucifer thought he saw where this was going. "So you think I should let Eve go, if I really love her?"

"What do you think? Is the relationship you have a healthy one?"

Lucifer smiled. "I wonder how healthy _our_ relationship is?"

"Sorry?"

"It occurs to me now what's been so different about the time Eve and I have been spending together lately. What's been so liberating. It's that Eve treats me like an adult. You, on the other hand – and they – treat me like a child."

"Because you're learning."

"In fact, no. Forget everything I said. The _best_ thing is that neither of us need a therapist to see into each other's hearts. I understand her better than anyone. And she knows me better than any human. She might have been put on Earth by Dad, like the Detective, but unlike the Detective, Eve's feelings aren't being controlled by Dad. When she says she loves me, I know she means it."

"But how can you be sure her intentions are pure?"

He laughed. "We're talking about Eve, the first woman on Earth. Of course her intentions are pure." He shook his head with a smile. "Doctor. Linda. You and I both know we're reaching the limits of what we can achieve here. Eve knows me better than any human therapist possibly could. Maybe it's time–"

"No."

Lucifer let the silence hang for a minute. "I'm sorry, what?"

She didn't respond, and he got up from the couch.

"It strikes me that perhaps I've been your little pet project. I have, haven't I? Therapist to the Devil himself. Truly, an accolade. You really have been getting more out of this than I have, even after the sex ended, haven't you? After all, in all our time together, I feel I've learned nothing. Made no progress."

"I beg to differ."

"She understands me more. Apologies for wasting your time, and my money."

"You're being cruel in order to push me away."

He clapped. "Those certificates aren't fake, then?"

"You can fire me as your therapist, if that's what you really want. But not as your friend."

He smiled, and gave her a little mock bow. "I beg to differ."

-x-

"It's freezing out here. Why don't you come inside?" Eve came up behind his seat on the balcony. She placed a hand on each side of his face and kissed the top of his head. Her mouth was damp and hot against his bare skin.

"I've been thinking," he told her as he looked out at the night sky. "What you said about the doors. Where's the one place in existence Dad has no power? Hell! What more perfect way to prove once and for all that he's not as powerful as he thinks he is?"

"Doors? I don't remember talking about any doors."

He frowned. "Didn't you? Maybe it was the Detective."

"Come inside. I've got a surprise for you."

He chuckled with curiosity, and followed her in.

"Do you remember that woman you liked earlier?"

"Tonight? The beautiful young woman named Abbie who turned out to be merely looking for one night's break from her marital woes? Until her husband showed up and they reconciled after a lot of kissing and waterworks? It was quite sweet, really – if you like that sort of thing."

He straightened his collar as he regarded his face in the mirror behind the bar. He didn't know why he chose the other face over this one so often. He looked confident, self-assured. He could be himself, without any pretences, with Eve. He smiled at her. She smiled back, a happy glint in her eye, but said nothing.

"What?" he asked her. Then a movement caught his eye.

Framed in the bedroom doorway stood the woman from earlier. She was panic-stricken.

"You wanted her, didn't you?" said Eve.

He couldn't take his eyes off the terror in the woman's face. It had washed away all trace of her beautiful innocence. "Where's your husband?" he asked her.

"They had another row," said Eve. "I persuaded her up here for a drink. Poor thing was in tears." Then she whispered, "If you want something, just take it." She raised her hand towards his face.

He grabbed Eve's wrist. "No."

"No?" He hadn't noticed how ugly anger made her.

"Do I have to explain? A person is not a thing." He threw her arm away and turned back to the young woman. "Go! Now!"

She was already tearing off her high heels. The floor shook as she pounded barefoot past them to the elevator.

When the room was silent again, Eve spoke. "Do you think I wanted to be tempted by you?"

He looked at the passion in her. He couldn't remember ever seeing her like this before.

"Did I ask for it? I was happy, with Adam."

"You made your choice, I didn't force…"

"Was it really a choice? Over and over and over until I said yes. Do any of these women have a choice, when they see you?"

"That's not my fault. All angels are attractive to humans. It's the divinity. I simply have the added bonus of appealing to the dark carnal desires in every human."

"And don't you know it. Don't you exploit it."

He turned his face away. She turned it back.

She softened her voice. "You don't have to explain why you sent her away. You're afraid of their fear, when they see you for who you are."

He looked at her in disbelief. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"It's all right. I understand. I chose you. Not the angel. You."

He viewed himself in the mirror as she embraced him. He no longer looked so assured.

-x-

The afternoon rush-hour traffic joining the highway accelerated. Lucifer matched it. He pumped the gas – but nothing happened. Then he noticed the traffic noise had stopped. And so had the cars. All of them, at once.

Lifting his hands from the steering wheel, Lucifer placed them behind his head and leaned back. He waited for Amenadiel to arrive. Which he did right in front of the car. Dramatic show-off. "Surprised you're back, after how our last encounter went down," Lucifer said as Amenadiel came around to the side.

"I've come to warn you. Of the repercussions."

"What repercussions? Of what?"

"Of an angel killing a human. Cain."

"Well, you took your time. That was ages ago. And you're using the word 'human' very loosely for that gorilla-size ham man."

"I didn't yet know what, if anything, would happen. But now I see you're with Eve again."

"Missed being a perv? And?"

"You think it was a coincidence she arrived right after you killed a human?"

"You read into things too much, brother." He tried retuning the car radio, but nothing came through to drown Amenadiel out. "And you're assuming Eve is an ill omen."

"When hasn't she been?"

"To Dad, maybe. Not to me. You're also assuming he sent her to me. Well, he does not control her – hasn't done for a long, long, long time. I made damn sure of that."

"She's tempting you."

Lucifer burst out laughing. "That's very good! Tell me another?"

"You knew the dangers of intervening–"

"Speaking of interventions, I didn't ask for you to bring this one." The bumper sticker on the SUV in front read 'God loves careful drivers'. "Wonder what'll happen if I press harder on the gas?" Nothing happened. "That's disappointing." He opened his glove compartment and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He got out of the car.

"Are you listening, Luci?"

Lucifer lifted a finger. "Just a sec." He scratched out 'ul' from the word 'careful' and replaced it with 'ree'. Now he was up close, he noticed just how many times Dad's name and variations of it were plastered across the bumper. There were so many stickers it was verging on the obscene. "These people really get up my nose."

"Who?" Amenadiel folded his arms. "Believers?"

"Hypocrites. Only they feel the need to broadcast their faith so much." He got back into the car and cradled the back of his head again. "Sorry, you were lecturing?"

Amenadiel sighed. "We got along better when I wasn't an angel. Now all we seem to do is fight again. Why? Are you… angry? Jealous?"

"Jealous!" Lucifer laughed. "Of you? Back under Dad's thumb? What's the use of being an angel if you're not allowed to use your wings, hmm?" He let that sink in.

"I saved Daniel's life recently. You remember Daniel?"

"Of course."

"Thought you might have forgotten the life you had here. Anyway, I intervened there too, with no repercussions from Dad. Time was when he'd permit interventions only in the lives of his goody two-shoes saints. Not for nobodies like Daniel."

"You helped a friend. I did the same for Linda."

"I'm surprised you remember what that is. Sad. Being a Nobby no-mates again."

"Eve is not your friend."

"No, you're right, she's not. She's my lover."

"And Chloe? Have you told her about you and Eve?"

"What the Detective doesn't know can't hurt her. Besides, she's happier now she's not with killer ham hands any more. And so is Eve, with me. So a win-win. Is this where you say it is Father's will that the Detective and I get together? Shall we just skip the part where I reply by saying Dad can stick his will up his –"

"Enough! You won't listen to reason. Not from me."

"Do I put my hands back on the wheel now? Because I'd hate to mow down another human. Think of all the repercussions that wouldn't happen."

"Don't grow complacent, Luci. I'm saying this as your friend." He disappeared, and Lucifer just managed to slide his fingers around the wheel and, since the gas was down where he'd pressed it, put his foot on the brake, before time speeded up again. He succeeded in avoiding the car in front, but the car behind nearly ran into him. Its horn erupted in a cacophony of noise. Lucifer didn't bite. He had enough on his mind.

-x-

Eyes closed, Lucifer drew out the notes to_ As Time Goes By_ on the piano. For a moment, he was back in the Silver City.

He didn't hear the elevator until the doors opened.

"Daniel! What an unexpected… pleasure." More unexpected than Daniel's sudden appearance in his penthouse was that he did indeed feel happy to see him. "Pour yourself a drink," he said, trying to shake off the strange feeling. Then he had a thought. "Is the Detective all right?"

"Yeah, why shouldn't she be?"

"I assume that's why you're here. Are you sure she's OK?"

"Why are you asking?"

Lucifer tinkled on the piano. "I haven't seen her for a few days. I wonder what she's been doing."

"How about you?" Daniel drifted away from the elevator. Craning his neck, he gave his apartment the sneaky police shufti. "What have you been doing?"

"Daniel, that's very rude – it's _whom_, not _what_." He smirked. "Speaking of which," he said, concerned for some reason at the thought of Eve meeting Daniel, probably because he didn't want him informing the Detective about her, "what _are _you doing here, anyway? I'm terribly busy."

"Yeah, I can see that," Daniel said as Lucifer started on the chorus to _I'm a Believer_. "I called, but you didn't answer."

"That was you?"

"You _still_ haven't saved my number? After all…" He shook his head. "OK, I'm not going anywhere till you add me into your phone."

Lucifer picked it up from the piano top. "If that's all it takes to get you to leave. How do you spell 'Detective Espinoza'?"

"D. A. N."

"Strange way to spell it." He added an 'i', 'e' and 'l'.

"Now I'm gonna buy you that drink. Yeah, I know," he added as Lucifer began to speak, "you own a bar."

"Actually, I was going to say I'm entertaining." He glanced toward the bedroom, where Eve was having her beauty sleep.

Daniel followed his gaze. He didn't seem surprised. But of course why would he be? "How about a break?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Lucifer began the opening notes to _Pretty Woman_.

"Downstairs?"

Lucifer looked at him suspiciously. "Pushy, aren't we?" He thought about the two unanswered calls from the same number earlier. Or had it been three? "Are you sure this isn't about the Detective?"

Daniel didn't respond straight away. "If I said it was, would you come down with me?"

"If you said it was… But it isn't, is it? What, then?"

Daniel glanced towards the bedroom. "This woman you're with. How well do you know her?"

"Very well indeed." Now Lucifer was really suspicious. "Why?"

"I heard she's trouble."

"You heard? From who?"

Daniel clearly didn't want to say.

But Lucifer was starting to guess. "You've had a feathery visitor, haven't you?"

"What?"

"My interfering brother, Amenadiel."

"He's worried about you, man."

"Pretty pathetic, sending you."

"He didn't _send_ me, he _asked_ me if I'd come."

Lucifer sighed. "Well, you did, like a good little puppy. Now you can go."

But Daniel wasn't moving. "So the woman you're with – Amenadiel says she's bad news."

"As always, Amenadiel is late by a few millennia. Amazing for someone who can literally control time. Look," he said as Daniel appeared about to explode with frustration, "I can handle her."

"Amenadiel's not so sure. He's worried she's manipulating you."

"I'll tell you who's manipulating me. Trying to," said Lucifer, suddenly losing patience. "You. Amenadiel. You're in league, making plans to make me something I'm not. And let's not forget my Father."

"Your father? What are you, paranoid? I don't know your father from Adam."

"Adam?" said Eve.

"Speak of the me."

She was standing in the doorway, dressed and made up as if ready for another night on the tiles. "Oh," she said when she saw Daniel. "Oh, you're Trixie's daddy, aren't you?"

"_You?_" He turned to Lucifer. "This is her? So you're hooking up with Chloe's roommate, huh? Does she know?"

"Why? Does he need her permission?" She came up behind Lucifer and rubbed his shoulders. "Play me a tune, darling?"

"What would you like?"

"_Just the Two of Us._"

Lucifer laughed.

"OK," said Daniel. "OK, this is clearly none of my business. I mean, you two seem to be having a whole lot of fun behind Chloe's back. And I don't want to get caught in the middle of whatever this is, man."

"Daniel, you seem to be under the impression that the Detective and I are an item. When have we ever been?"

"This isn't about her. At least, I didn't think it was. Amenadiel just said–"

"Amenadiel?" said Eve.

"You know him too?" asked Daniel.

"Bad history," Lucifer explained.

"Speaking of history," said Eve, "why are you still here?"

Daniel laughed. "Wow, you were all sweetness and light around Chloe, weren't you? I had a hunch it must have been a show."

"Oh, you did, did you? What else can you see? I'd like to know." She moved her hands up Lucifer's neck. "Show him," she said, not bothering to whisper. "Show him your true face."

Lucifer laughed, half-disbelieving. "Eve, no."

"I _want _you to."

He felt his face grow hot. Was it fear, or was it working?

He tried to keep calm. Cool. "Apparently, my dear, my brother says you're bad news."

He turned his gaze on Daniel's bemused expression and hardened his voice.

"But the only bad news in this room is you. Detective Douche."

There was an uneasy silence as Lucifer thought he wasn't going to budge. But then, with an incredulous laugh and shake of the head, at last he made for the elevator. He looked above Lucifer, at Eve. "You think I'm dumb. But I know what he's doing." He stepped into the elevator. "You know," he said to Lucifer, "maybe some day you and me'll take a trip to Canada." He pressed the button. "I hear the Lakes are awesome this time of year."

The doors closed.

"What's in Canada?" asked Eve.

"Nothing." Lucifer stood up. Her hands fell away. He went to the bar and swallowed a Scotch.

"You should have done it. I could smell his guilt from here. I have a nose for it."

He turned to look at her. "How do you mean?"

"If he were in Hell, you'd punish him for his sins."

"Daniel? I would not. Daniel is a good man."

"Good man? Really? You're only saying that because you know him here on Earth. If you didn't…" She came up to him. "You would." His distress must have shown, because she placed a hand on his face. "It's OK. You've spent too long here, that's all. Too much time around them."

"_Them?_ Last time I looked you were still a human too."

"I'm special. I'm the first lady. I'm _your_ first lady, my king."

He let her cup his face and kiss him. "You are. But they're my friends."

She withdrew her hands and stood back. "Are you still the Devil?"

"That's a strange question. Of course I'm still the Devil. Are you still Eve?"

"Then you know the Devil doesn't have friends, only demons. You have to be above all that, stay objective, like a good king, if you're going to do your job right, don't you?"

"Job? I'm retired."

"If you ever go back."

"I'm never going back."

"_If._"

He watched her pour him a fresh drink.

"And anyway," she said, handing it to him with a smile, "you just said you're still the Devil even outside of Hell. You're right – you'll always be the Devil, wherever you are."

He held her gaze for a moment.

Then gave her a grin. "Yes, you're right, of course."

She grinned back, then put a hand to her ear. "Oh, I forgot to change my earrings. Don't go anywhere without me!"

He went back to the piano to collect his phone. He stopped when he saw Daniel's entry still on the screen.

If he had stayed objective, he would have let Daniel burn in that fire. If he had stayed objective, the Detective would have died the first week he had met her.

"Almost ready!" said Eve as she returned, fixing her ear.

"Would you believe the bar's run out of my favourite Scotch?" He hoped she would. "Won't be long, dear. Go down without me." He gave her a peck on the cheek and left down the elevator.

-x-

Maybe it had been the drugs that day after all, he thought, as he gazed in the rear-view mirror at the sunset in the west.

He didn't know why he was here, in this secluded spot overlooking the sparkling city. He needed to get away from the noise.

He thought about praying for Amenadiel, give the meddling idiot a piece of his mind for putting Daniel in danger. But then it occurred to him what that danger was. Himself.

LA glittered as the darkness grew. He'd already learned it wasn't about the place, it was about the people. But those people were getting hurt.

Did he have to leave with her? They couldn't stay – she antagonised too many of the people he knew. But he couldn't send her away – he couldn't abandon her, not now. Not again. It was hardly Eden, but she'd chosen here. She'd chosen him. And she loved him.

What should he do?

Where was a sunset in the east when you needed one, Dad?

The phone rang. Startled, he looked down at it on the passenger seat. It wasn't a number he recognised. It wasn't Daniel, not this time.

He blinked and turned his attention back to the view.

At last, it stopped ringing.

And then started again, the same unfamiliar number.

He reached to turn it off, but then thought: Don't be ridiculous, Dad doesn't have a phone. He picked it up and put on his cockiest smile. "Lucifer Morningstar."

There was a second's pause in which he didn't think his heart could get any further in his mouth. Then:

"Um, hey, is Eve around?"

"Eve? No, she's not." He tried to place the man's voice. "Who is this?"

"Only, she's left some of her stuff here, so I'm calling to see when she wants to come pick it up."

"Adam? Adam, is that you? You insufferable sad sack, keeping your wife locked–"

"I think you've got me mixed up. Could you please just pass on the message?"

"If you're not Adam, who are you? And how did you get this number?"

"Eve called the other day to say she was quitting."

"Quitting? Quitting what? Where?"

"Who did you say you are? Lucifer Morningstar? Is that a stage name?"

"Look, my patience is running dangerously short, my friend. Who are you, and where did Eve quit whatever it was?"

"Tim Hutzel and Associates. I'm Tim. And you are?"

"Getting somewhere at last. What is that? A law firm? Hang on… I recognise that name." Then it hit him. "Aren't you the lawyer we couldn't get hold of?"

Tim made a noise like a frustrated sigh down the phone. "I gotta go. Just pass the message to her, OK?" He ended the call before Lucifer could speak again.

But in his head, pieces were falling into place.

Oh, Eve. What have you done?

Reversing into the sunset, he turned the car into the road.

-x-

"Tim Hutzel," he said to her as soon as they were alone upstairs. He'd shut the club up early for the night. She was too easily tempted. "Name ring a bell?"

She shrugged.

"Because it does for me. It rings a bloody big bell with the words 'Robert Bowers's and Claire Foles's employment lawyer' engraved into it."

"Who?"

Lucifer laughed. But she was sincere. "You don't even remember their names, do you? You worked there, and you don't remember two of their clients who were murdered recently?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about. Why don't we go down–"

He remembered the DNA they'd found at Claire's murder scene was male. "Where's Adam? Where is he really?"

She shrugged again. "Who cares?"

"I think their families might just care. How did you help him? Feed him the information he needed? Their addresses, from the law firm? Why? What had they done to him?"

"Him?" She laughed. "You know Adam wouldn't hurt a fly, darling."

He stared at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. He didn't want to use his ability on her unless it became necessary. "The police found his DNA at the scene," he bluffed.

"Well, that was careless of him, wasn't it? And usually he takes such good care. Of me, especially."

Had Adam murdered them as vengeance for Eve? "They'd done something to you? What?"

"To me? What they did was to themselves." She went behind the bar and opened the cooler. "Mmm, my favourite," she said as she pulled out a tub of ice cream.

He thought back to how they'd died. Bowers with a corkscrew in his throat. Foles choked on her own magazine. He had lost his job because he'd been drunk at the wheel. She had lost hers because she'd forgotten to pixelate out some dangerous men who didn't want to be seen. Both had ruined their own lives, because of one stupid mistake.

Just like Eve had, a long, long time ago.

"He tried to stop you, didn't he? Adam. That's why he was there? Or he was clearing up after you?"

She spooned ice cream into her mouth. "I promised if he let me be with you I'd stop. And I have." She smiled at him as if expecting a pat on the head.

"Stop? When did you start?" A catastrophic thought occurred to him. "Adam didn't keep you indoors all these millennia just for your own safety, did he? It was for everyone else's safety too."

"I told you, didn't I? I have a nose for people's guilt. They reek of it. They all do. Those two did, especially. As soon as I saw their files, I knew I had to help them, save them from the lives they'd made for themselves. They looked so sad."

He could hardly hear himself think. "So they pitied themselves for one stupid mistake. They'd already ruined their lives, Eve, you didn't have to go and make things worse by giving them such ignominious deaths."

"Isn't that what you did, in Hell? Punished people for stupid mistakes?"

"I only made sure they got what they deserved! Those people you killed, they were innocents. Good people. You don't go to Hell just for screwing up your own life."

"How do you know they were good people?"

"I followed their cases. They were… ordinary people."

"_Ordinary_ people? _Good_ people? How would _the Devil_ know what a _good person_ is?" She laughed. "I was ordinary once. Remember? Then you came along and made me special." She left the ice cream on the bar and came up to him. "I'm still special, aren't I?" When he didn't answer, she put her arms around his waist. "We can be just us three again."

"Can't kill them all, my dear. When Dad told you to go forth and fornicate, you didn't hold back." He tried to laugh, but it came out wrong.

"We're a lot alike, you and I. Our mistakes made us special." She rested her head on his chest. "I wanted to show you what a good queen I could be."

"Queen?"

"If you decided to be King of Hell again." She raised her eyes to his. "I'll be your queen, my king."


	6. Cheers to That!

The club was empty, but Lucifer still worried. He'd called Patrick while she was in the bathroom, made sure he was at home. Far from here, anyway.

She'd insisted on coming down, and he'd agreed, thinking it was best to keep her close. Keep her safe. Like Adam had been doing. Poor sod.

The dance music was turned down low as they sat in the lit booth. She stroked his face lovingly. "Promise you'll never leave me. Promise – and I'll know you mean it."

"I promise I'll never abandon you."

It seemed to satisfy her. She picked up her martini glass. It was empty.

"Let me." He got up.

"You're a darling."

Behind the bar, he couldn't avoid the mirrors. Nor did he want to. If only his shtick worked on himself, he could ask the Devil looking back what it was he really truly wanted right now.

There was a commotion behind him. He caught something in the mirror.

"Eve Gardner! Police!"

He dropped down behind the bar.

"Darling?" shouted Eve.

"Hands where I can see them." It was the Detective.

"Chloe," said Eve. "What's going on? What are you doing here at this hour?"

"It's eight in the morning."

"Really? We've been having so much fun."

"I've come to take you in for questioning about the murders of Robert Bowers and Claire Foles."

Eve laughed. "This is crazy. Are you playing a prank on me, Chloe? It's not because I ate your favourite cookies that time, is it? I told you, I really didn't know you liked the double chocolate ones so much."

"This isn't about cookies, Eve. Or… those yoghurts either. This is murder. I found the files in my bureau. Robert and Claire's files. The ones you stole or copied from the law firm you worked at. Yeah – I called them and they told me you were a temp there until recently. Doing admin."

"But what makes you think I had anything to do with their deaths?"

There was a pause. "We've got Adam's DNA," the Detective said, using the same bluff Lucifer had used earlier.

Silence. And then, "Darling?" shouted Eve more loudly. When he made no move, he thought he heard her laugh. "I think he's scared to show his face. You know," she said, raising her voice, "just because he got kicked out of his home, he thought it was OK to get all of humanity kicked out of our home too. And now all of my children have to live in this filth and depravity forever. Wallowing in sin. Because of _him_!"

"Yeah?" said the Detective. "It takes two to tango, hun."

He heard a thump, and looked over the bar.

The Detective was standing over Eve, lying slumped in the booth. She turned. He dropped back down.

"You just KO'd the world's first feminist, Detective!"

"I think I got a little… carried away."

"You must have _really_ liked those double-choc cookies." His laugh was hollow. "Who told you she was here? Daniel?"

"Dan knew?"

"Amenadiel?" he asked.

"Did everyone know except me?"

"Who then?"

"Linda told me."

"And broke doctor–patient confidentiality?"

"I heard you'd fired her."

His laughter this time came with a prickle of warmth.

"Come out from there."

He heard her step closer. "No! Please, Detective, don't… I don't want you to see me like this."

"I've seen you before like this, remember."

"No, this is different. Then, with Pierce, I… I didn't want it, didn't expect it. But this – I wanted this. I wanted to give her anything she desired. This is all me."

"Lucifer. Eve… she let herself be consumed by bitterness and self-hatred. It doesn't have to be that way for you too."

"I can never be the angel you want me to be."

"I've never wanted that, Lucifer. I just want you to be yourself. Your wacky, self-obsessed, inappropriately gleeful, occasionally surprisingly thoughtful self. The man…" She faltered. "The man I fell in love with."

Lucifer closed his eyes and pictured her face. He got up.

"Hey." The Detective greeted him with a happy smile.

-x-

Lucifer leaned back in the booth seat and steepled his fingers. He'd tried to get some sleep while the police searched his apartment above, but none had been forthcoming. He'd spent the morning giving a description of Adam and answering questions. Then as soon as they had finished with him, he had paid Linda a visit. She had forgiven him immediately when he had apologised to her, which was more than he deserved. And she wasn't the only one he had hurt. Amenadiel. Daniel. The Detective. He let his eyes close.

"Hey, buddy." Daniel jolted him back. "We're all done. You can go up now. Sorry we had to do that."

"I quite understand. Oh, Daniel? Thank you for trying to rescue me yesterday, from Eve."

Daniel snorted. "Hey." He punched him on the shoulder. "That's what friends are for."

Lucifer considered the man standing before him. Daniel Espinoza. One of the most unassuming humans he had ever known. "Yes. I've sometimes wondered. I mean, without the requirement of a favour being returned. Or sex. Or a sexual favour. It's always baffled me."

Daniel's face reflected his bafflement. He laughed. "You never get any less weird, do you, pal? Seriously, though. I had no idea how bad things were."

"Neither did I."

The Detective was waiting for him in his apartment. "We've got an APB out on Adam."

"He was trying to stop her."

"We don't know what his involvement was, Lucifer. We need to find him and bring him in."

"Adam wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"Did you think Eve would? People change. Especially after…" Her eyes widened. "I don't know how long."

"Not Adam. I think the worst thing he did was try to keep her safe. You see, he loved her very much. Does that change too, Detective?"

She sank onto the couch and held her head in her hand. "This is nuts. Adam. Eve. And the Devil."

"I thought you'd got over me?" He added hastily, "I mean about me being the Devil."

"Just when I think I have – it hits me again." She dropped her hand and looked up. "She said in her statement she could smell people's guilt. Could she?"

"Of course not. She's just…" He didn't want to call Eve mad. But she was, wasn't she? Driven mad by the past. "She's just human."

"You know, Bowers's and Foles's files were right at the top of the drawer. Not even in her room. It was like she didn't care if I found them."

"She never hid anything from God."

She looked at him. "I'm not God."

He gave a little laugh. "Which quintessentially witty reply would you like to that? The slightly blasphemous one where I splutter a series of profanities in thankfulness, or the one where I _really_ piss Dad off?"

She laughed with him, then stood up. "Well, we didn't find anything here, you'll be glad to know."

"What about all her clothes and stuff? Actually, I was going to ask if you could help me sort them–" He closed his eyes and smiled. "And now it's just occurred to me how grotesquely inappropriate that would be."

"It just occurred to you?"

"Yes. Just now. My apologies."

"You don't need to apologise. I don't think it would have occurred to you _at all_, before."

"You're being generous. To the poor sod who was lied to. Except, I don't think she ever actually lied to me. She just led me up the garden path. Like I did with her, once. Literally."

"I'm just glad you're back to your old self. I was getting worried back there. Especially after what Linda told me. Eve just… came looking for you?"

"It seems while we were catching up, I got caught up… in the past. I was angrier back then. Crueller. Not to Eve. She was… She showed me kindness. I would have given her anything she desired."

"Did you ask her what her deepest, darkest desire was?"

"I didn't need to. She told me. She wanted to be back in Eden, of course. Just her, Adam and me. Maybe it's a curse, being able to discover what humans really truly want. A curse she put on me. Figuratively speaking."

"It's what you do. It's special. It's a gift. Look, Lucifer, all I know is, it's the easiest thing in the world to hurt someone. Especially those who deserve it. It's much harder to try to understand them."

They sank into thought. Night was falling. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." She looked at him questioningly. "For everything."

"By _everything_…?" She waited, then snorted and shook her head. "You can't be… This is nuts. The Devil is apologising to me for getting humanity thrown out of Eden, for crying out loud."

"But can you forgive me?"

She studied him for a long moment. "I don't know what you want me to say, Lucifer. Because I love my life. Sure, I guess you and Adam and Eve took a lot from us. But look at what you gave us. Freedom. Choices."

"The choice to do bad things and go to Hell."

"Well, but we make those choices ourselves. And what was Eden like? Blissful ignorance? Ignorance is a really dangerous thing. I see the consequences all the time in my work. And as for the bliss… I mean, having everything handed to you on a plate, never having to work for anything, earn anything. You don't have to care for anyone because everyone from the day they're born has everything they'll ever need. It sounds… empty. Meaningless."

"Why do you need meaning?"

"You just do. Don't you have –?" She gestured towards him. "You punish people who deserve it. That's meaning, right? Purpose?"

"I _enjoy_ punishing those who deserve it."

"OK. So why are you here?"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, are you looking for something… _here_?" She held his gaze. "Have you found it?"

"I was looking for a good time. And yes, I did find that."

"That's not… what I meant."

She seemed dejected, and he searched for something to cheer her up. "I guess… when I'm around you… or when you're in my thoughts… sometimes I… well, eternity seems a little less empty." He widened his smile as he had an idea. "Maybe you and I could figure out why that is, Detective? Solve that puzzle together?"

"Yeah. Sure." He thought he'd successfully raised her spirits, but at his last suggestion she seemed to return to hesitancy and doubt, despite her words and smile. And sadness? But why would she be sad?

"Apologies, I didn't mean–" He looked at the water in her eyes and wondered what to do.

"You've had a long day. You probably want to get some rest."

"I think rest would be something of a miracle right now." How could he find rest if he let her leave like this? Then it came to him. "I know something that will bring you pleasure."

Striding behind the bar, he found the track on the sound system and hit play. The unmistakeable opening beats of Yazoo's _Only You_ filled the room.

"I know I've already tried this one before, but… Is this what you humans would call 'our song'?"

"I guess it is."

"I'm sorry, I thought it would make you happy."

"You have. You do." But she was still struggling to hold back tears.

He cast about for more ideas. "I'd sing you a cheerful song." He gestured to the piano. "But I'm not really in the mood tonight. Unless it's what you desire?"

But her eyes only filled up even more. And he would have given anything to be able to discover what it was she truly wanted then.

She came up to him as the second chorus of _Only You_ began, and smoothed his shirt.

"If there's one thing I've learned from Eve," she said at last, "it's that though she sees something in you I don't, it doesn't matter to me. Because I know you. I know you better than she does. I think you've shown me more of you than you ever showed her."

"I'm still the Devil, Detective."

"And now I know it's just a name. A name to scare people. But I'm not scared. Trixie isn't scared. Linda isn't scared. Ella isn't scared. Even Dan isn't scared," she laughed. "We care about you. I care about you. A lot."

Then why was she trying not to cry?

"Trixie's at a sleepover tonight."

"Right. Good for her."

"If you want… we could have one too? If you wanted?"

"Right." He hesitated. "You don't mean playing Monopoly, do you."

She shook her head. Her eyes were tearing up again. What had he said wrong?

"But why–?"

She reached up and caught him in a kiss. He fell into it. Her hands slid beneath his shirt at his back, exploring him slowly, carefully, warily.

He was enjoying the kiss when he realised she had moved forward to his chest, and had already picked apart one button. He leaned away. "Are you sure? I don't want you to have any regrets."

He was relieved to see her eyes were bright with anticipation, not tears. Her smile was playful as she drew her hand through his hair. "Just – promise not to show me your love handles."

"I – what?"

She shook her head and kissed him again. He savoured it, and the warmth of her in his arms. Then he reached down to her legs and scooped her up in his arms. "So. Chloe Decker. It's time you told me what you truly desire."

She reached up to his face as the music ended. "Only you, Lucifer."

-x-

He hated prisons. They reminded him of Hell. So he was eager to get this over with. He had promised never to abandon her, and as her son had learned, he was a Devil of his word.

Leaning back against the wall, he watched Eve sleep on the tiny prison bed, facing away from him. She looked terribly drab in prison clothes. A guard passed by her cell, footsteps echoing and keys jangling, followed by rough chatter. This would have gone easier with Amenadiel here to stop time. But Lucifer didn't want to drag him into this. He didn't know how Dad would take what he was about to do.

Eve turned over, her eyes opening. She blinked at him and sat up. "I knew you'd come for me!" Her smile tore a hole in his chest. "How did you–?"

"I'm good with locks. Listen, Eve, I've never done this before." She was already weaving her arms around him, and he caught her hands and pushed them away. "What do you want – to stay here – or come with me? And by that, I mean somewhere hot and deeply unpleasant."

"You mean you're going to –"

"Drag you to Hell, yes. Which I've never done with any living soul before. But I'm giving you the choice. Something you're not giving me."

She smiled. "And we'll be together–"

"I'm not staying." He forced himself to hold her eyes, though her sadness was like a blade in him.

"But you will, darling," she said, and put her hand on his cheek. "One day you will. And we'll be together, just you and me, for eternity. I'll wait for you."

He pulled her hand away. "You can choose to stay." What was he saying? He knew he couldn't let her stay. How would her human guards deal with her refusal to age? And when eventually they released her, there was no saying how many more lives she would end through her deluded beliefs.

"Stay here? What is there for me here but heartache and misery? They lock me up, they look at me like I'm no one, mean nothing to them. Me – their mother. I can't bear seeing how they live like this so willingly, and pretend to happiness. They don't know what happiness means, darling."

He wondered if she might actually find some happiness in Hell, in her own twisted way. Because of course her Hell loop would always begin with Eden, with Adam. And then Lucifer – her Lucifer – would enter her world again. She wouldn't be any worse off in Hell than she was here on Earth already, reliving it in her head.

And an eternity was still an eternity, whether it began now or later.

"I've been thinking about why he abandoned you. Dad. You see, I was his first failure. He thought he would succeed with you. He put me in your path to test you. And you failed too. Like any dictator, he has a natural intolerance to failure. One whiff of it, and it's sayonara. So he threw you out. Just like he rejected me. But he hasn't done any dictating for a very long time. It's funny, but I think you've grown on him. I mean you as in all humans. I wonder if he might have actually come to realise what I've always known – that it's your flaws that make you interesting. Special."

"I _am_ special!"

He returned her smile. "Yes, Eve. You're very special. You helped me acquire my gift, didn't you? To find out people's desires? I've been using it on Earth to find out whether people are good or bad… criminals or innocents. Maybe I could have done the same in Hell, found out whether they were worth trying to save from themselves – if it's possible. Because when Dad abandoned you humans to your own guilt, I think he left the door open. For you humans."

"Good people? In Hell? Chloe's driven you mad, darling."

"You said I never saw good people in Hell. Obvious, really, isn't it? Except it isn't true. Good people send themselves to Hell all the time, literally and figuratively. Guilt from a mistake. Guilt from a regret. Their guilt uses what they love against them. And in Hell I helped that along."

"But you can't remove people's guilt." She sounded afraid.

"Of course you can't. But one thing I learned from Charlotte is second chances."

"Who's Charlotte?"

He looked at her, feeling a sudden sense of disorientation. He smiled. "A friend of mine. Yes, Eve, the Devil really does have friends. Shocking, isn't it?"

"I don't understand why you're thinking like this. Chloe's manipulating you. You punish the guilty. That's what you do. That's what the Devil does."

"It's not quite that simple, Eve." He waited while someone walked by outside. "Well, let's take Hitler as the example – everyone does, don't they? He's as guilty as… well, as Hell. It was his guilt drove him down there. But does the sick, self-righteous bastard feel any of it? Only with a lot of help from me and my infernal fam. You see, the sicker the soul, the more fuel we have to add, the more we have to draw their guilt out of them, convince them they deserve to be there. And they do, make no mistake. But as for the others… the less sick souls that we just stand back and watch torture themselves… Well, I thought it was all about having fun. And now… now I'm not so sure."

"How does this help me?"

"I don't suppose it does, really. I just thought you might like to know how guilt works."

"I know how guilt works. It's the difference between me and Adam in Paradise and all of my children having to endure this Hell on Earth."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. If any human does, it's a Hell of their own making. Just like the real one." He reached out for her hand. "People trap themselves in the past. Or in the future, worrying about what's to come. I can't worry about what's to come for you, Eve."

-x-

"Come back to bed." She raised herself from her pillow. "It's still dark. What are you doing?"

"Just looking at the stars you like to walk among."

"Sorry it's not the view you're used to from your fancy penthouse."

"Oh, I don't know. The view looks pretty good from where I'm sitting."

He could have sworn she blushed in the light from the moon. She snorted. "Charmer."

"Did you know what humans usually call the Morning Star is a planet really? Venus." He gazed at it.

"What does your name mean?"

"Thought you'd read my Wikipedia page?"

"Sure. I want you to tell me."

He looked out of her window, the shadow of dawn touching the horizon. Where to begin?

"Lightbringer. Your name means that, doesn't it? Why did you choose it, out of all the names?"

"Because Beelzebub would have been a bit of a conversation killer."

"No jokes. Lucifer Morningstar. Tell me what your name means to you."

Did he want to dredge up those painful memories? No. But with her, anything seemed possible.

"Well." He spoke slowly, gathering his thoughts, balling the pain as it trickled in and tucking it away. "A very, very long time ago. Not long after time itself had dawned, in fact. There was a good son. A perfect son. He did everything his Father told him to. Without questioning. And he was content, this perfect son. His Dad told him to set a new light into the darkness. And he did. His Dad told him to arrange the lights according to his design. And he did. And this went on for – ah – some time. And then one day, the good son wondered, what if I tried setting a light of my own?"

He paused, turned to see if she was still listening. Of course she was.

"But when his Dad saw what his perfect son had done, there was an almighty row. That was my first," he told her. "My first row with Dad."

He turned back to the shining planet. "I was proud of what I'd done. I was the brightest, the best. Better than all of them, I thought. Better than Dad. What an idiot I was."

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "And 'Morningstar'?"

He looked down at her hand around his. "We fought. He destroyed it. I managed to save most of it." His ring was warm where it touched her skin. "Of course, I had to use some preternatural hocus-pocus…" He remembered just in time that she'd said no jokes. "To keep it close. If this little beauty still had the gravitational pull of a star, it would swallow the Earth. Which would be a bit of a buzzkill." She didn't tell him off for the attempt at humour. She was still listening. "I've never told anybody this. Not a soul. Not a demon. No one."

"Why not?"

He looked at her beautiful face in the moonlight. "No one has ever asked."

He wondered what on earth he'd been thinking when he had chosen Eve over Chloe Decker.

"You are just as precious to me." He held her flawless eyes in his. "Yes," he said, coming to a decision as she rubbed his hand. "Yes, you are." He slid his hand out of hers. Then removed his ring. His heart thudded in protest. But he took her hand in his, and gazed into her eyes as he slipped it onto her finger.

Her face glowed with happiness.

Then surprise, shock, fear.

"Lucifer?" She was looking down. He followed her gaze to the ring.

It was on fire.

It burned, not with a furious divine light as Azrael's blade had done, but with the simple, pure starlight that he had thought he would never see again.

"Lucifer? What's happening?"

He looked up at her perfect face, and thought his heart might burst.

"Lucifer, I – I don't understand. What does it mean?"

He found his voice at last. "It means –" He faltered "– I've loved you since the beginning of time."

He reached across to stroke her hair. It shimmered like gold in her starlight.

"It seems Dad didn't destroy the missing piece after all. He fashioned a soul out of it instead." He smiled. Then remembered something. "The piece is here." Uriel's final words to him. Uriel, who saw patterns everywhere. Had he seen this one too? He had thought he had meant the missing piece of Azrael's blade – but could it have been both?

She was breathless, thoughts tumbling through her head as fast as they were through his.

"I _knew_ you looked familiar when we met," he told her. He grinned. "It wasn't just your foray into acting."

"Don't spoil the mood."

He laughed, delighted her fear had gone. "The question is, did Dad put you in my path because he knew I'd wash up here thirty years later… or did I come to LA because I knew you were here? Considering I've never bought all of his predestination hoo-ha… I'm beginning to think it was the latter all along."

The burning ring between them lit up their faces as they brought them together.

-x-

When morning came, it was his turn to ask her back to bed. "It's Saturday. No work for you today, Detective Deckerstar." She was facing away from him, the fire from his ring – her ring – lighting the dresser where she was standing in her night shirt.

"Oh my God."

"Ugh. Did you have to spoil a perfect morning?" He caught his breath when he remembered what made this morning a perfect one. She was right – maybe he should start thinking before he spoke, in future. "Force of habit," he said to the ceiling.

"It's Dan."

"Daniel? What is?" As he lay in the languor of sleep, it dawned on him what it was he had felt after he had helped Daniel from the fire. Something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. Pride.

"I shouldn't have turned it off." She turned around, the ring bright beneath the phone in her hand. "Twelve missed calls."

"From Daniel?"

"Ella." She put the phone to her ear. Then shook her head. "She's not answering." She started to pace, holding her head in her hand. "She left a message. They found Adam. Dan was with them. Adam… he shot himself instead of going with them. Dan got hit."

He wondered if Adam had found out Eve was gone. And thought that as she hadn't returned to him, he had lost her. Or had he believed that by taking his own life, they would be reunited in Hell forever? "Poor sod."

"'Poor sod'? He shot Dan!"

"Is he…?"

"He's in surgery."

Lucifer threw back the bed covers. "I'll drive."

"Trixie… I'll ask Olga if she can come over."

He was dressed first. She tried her phone again, left Ms Lopez a message to call her back. Then saw to her offspring. The daughter of two police officers, she would have seen through anything that wasn't the truth. "Daddy's got a little hurt. Lucifer and I are going to see him, make sure he's got everything he needs while he gets better. Don't you worry about anything, munchkin. Olga here will stay with you while we're gone. And then when Daddy's feeling better, we'll all go see him together? OK?"

Olga shepherded the child to her room with promises of chocolate cake later.

She checked her phone again, then for the first time that morning stopped and looked at him. "What are you doing? Are you making pancakes?"

"You need to eat something first. I thought–"

"I can't believe you're making pancakes at a time like this."

"Don't worry." He smiled. "Nothing can go wrong today."

Her phone rang. She answered it. "Thank God, Ella. How is he?"

He studied her face. But as she listened she covered half of it with her hand. Then dropped the phone on the counter and collapsed in his arms – in relief, he hoped.

But then thought, if it had been, she would have been in her daughter's arms, not his.

Holding her tight in one arm, he reached for the phone where she'd let it fall. "When?"

Ms Lopez's hoarse voice came back, hesitantly, "A few hours ago. I've been trying to contact–"

"Thank you, Ms Lopez." He ended the call and put the phone down. Too late to try to bring him back. Two hours was much too long.

Her offspring was watching. Olga tried to reassure her back into her room. "Mommy? Is Daddy badly hurt?" When her mother didn't reply, the child said, "Has he gone to Heaven?"

He felt her tremble in his arms, and held her tighter.

The child gave in to Olga's encouragements and left them alone again.

Lucifer could only hold her close. His helplessness as her sobs shook him burned a rage in his chest. He raised his eyes. "Enjoying the show?"

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in the smell of her as he waited for her tears to subside.

Then he carefully unfolded his arms from around her and looked into her face. He smiled reassurance. "I'll find him."

Her breath hitched, her eyes widened. "No, no. He wouldn't." She shook her head. "Not Dan."

"Listen. Don't worry. I made a promise. And you know me, I always fulfil my promises." He didn't know if it could even work. But he thought back to Azrael's blade in Daniel's hand and Daniel's strength as he'd fought its pull. "He's strong. I've seen it. If I can help anyone there, it's him."

She was strong too. He knew he didn't need to worry about her. He realised now that he had never had to worry. That was the beauty of Chloe Decker.

She searched his eyes. "But you will be back soon?"

He didn't lie. So he said nothing.

"No," she said. "I don't want you to go."

"Believe me, the last thing I want is to leave you like this."

For a moment, she managed to fight back her tears. She inhaled. "Then don't."

His breath caught in a hollow laugh tinged with warmth. "I know you don't mean that."

He slid his hands down her arms to her fingers.

"Time works differently there. Thirty seconds feels like thirty years. For Daniel? Yes?"

She stretched out her arms as he moved back.

"Wait." She reached into her blouse and took out the ring. It was dark again. She slipped it onto his finger. "I love you, Lucifer."

He thought he might break. But, somehow, he inched back until only their fingertips were touching. Then let her go.

When he was as far away from her as he could bear, he unfurled his wings in the empty space. The air settled, and the drapes fell back into place, and he could have sworn Amenadiel must have returned then, because time seemed to come to a stop. Only the fall of her tears showed him it hadn't.

Then in ran the child, snatching hold of her mother's hand. Olga followed. He heard the gasp and caught the movement as she made the sign of the cross.

But he only had eyes for her. His beautiful star given mortal form.

He drew the ring to his chest, and let thirty valuable seconds go by as he imprinted all of her on his mind.

And then the Devil went back to Hell.

-x-

On his way to Daniel's cell, he thought of the tack he might start with. Imagine it's improv, Daniel. All of this is in your head.

Then maybe let's improvise a second chance like Charlotte had. A shot at redemption. If he believed it was real, what would be the difference? The guilt that had driven him here was all in him anyway. The redemption that might get him out had to be too.

He was prepared for the worst – he'd seen it all in Hell. But he wasn't prepared to see the child again.

"Daddy!"

As the child disappeared, screaming, into the van, the last man inside looked back. Malcolm's face grinned at Daniel.

Lucifer watched the van screech away down the dark street. Knowing how these things worked, he wondered who'd be the next victim in Daniel's Hell loop. Charlotte, maybe. Then who? He'd have to steel himself for that.

"Lucifer? Thank God you're here!" Gripping his phone, Daniel swung around to where the van had disappeared round the corner, and back again to Lucifer. "They… They've got Trixie. They've got my baby!" He paced the street like a caged animal, by turns staring down the road where they'd gone then back into his useless phone. "They're gonna kill her," he panted. He came back to Lucifer. "Please… Help me."

Lucifer forced himself to hold Daniel's tortured eyes. "I'm going to try."

-x-

In the beginning…

The angel Lucifer was cast out of Heaven and condemned to rule Hell for all eternity.

Until he decided to take a vacation...

And like any boss after a long, much-needed break, he returned to work a slightly different one, with a bagful of renewed enthusiasm and handing out crazy new ideas to anyone who'd listen. But without the duty-free.

The Prince of Darkness gave up eons of sweeping everyone's messes under the oversized carpet, and instead began to show each of them how they might start on the long process of putting their own house in order.

Some things didn't change. All demons were still called demons. Because if you ever dared to call them Counsellor, they'd probably decide not to bother with all the pleasantries before they gutted and roasted you.

A year went by, then two, three, a century… Until about as much time on Earth had passed since his last vacation as had gone before. Souls came. And went. Hell was a little emptier, Heaven a little fuller. Being the ruler of Hell for all eternity kept the Lightbringer as busy as ever…

Until he decided to take another vacation…

-x-

The deafening racket called music that he'd made a mental note to try out on the deserving when he got back to Hell stopped. Which in itself wouldn't have been a problem. Quite the opposite. But the room was completely silent. All chatter had ceased too. "Oh, come on!" Lucifer opened his eyes and had his fears confirmed by the statues of flesh with snapshotted grins and hair like it had been caught in an electric storm dotted around the room. "Already? Really?" He sat up on the bed and sighed at Amenadiel. He fixed a complaisant smile to his face. "Come to escort me back home, bro?"

"Yes, Luci."

"Look, I haven't had a holiday in literally millennia. Can't you cut me some slack?"

"Why now? After all these years?"

"Why else? To have a good time! And by the looks of it," he said, drawing his eyes over the same old dress-slash-robe, "you still haven't figured out what that means, have you? Do you know, it turns out sex is still a thing. Fun is too. And my favourite whisky. Some things never change. I mean, despite the –" He gestured around at the gadgets crowding the walls. And looked out of the window at the equally unfamiliar machinery in the sky. "But the best things never do. No, scratch that, the cars are faster. Well… if you'd call them cars. The equivalent."

"Is that the only reason you're here, Luci?"

"Well –" He looked up at Amenadiel with a smirk ready on his lips. But he saw he was onto him, and he let it fall away. "I – I thought if I could… be a little closer. Just for a while." He gazed down at his darkened ring. Tried not to think. Tried not to hope. "How is she?"

"She's in Heaven, Luci."

"Of course. Silly question." He swallowed. It must have been a while since he'd last had a drink, because his throat was dry. "Does she… remember me?"

"There is no one who is in her thoughts more."

He let out a shaky breath, and closed his eyes. There she was, as clearly as the day he had met her. "Do you know _Only You_ by Yazoo?" He opened his eyes and looked Amenadiel up and down. "No, of course you don't. Forgot who I was talking to for a second." He turned to the people around them, arms frozen in a tableau of reaching, leaning, laughing, lechering. "I'll wager these bright young things don't either. It's probably too old school even for old school by now." He let his gaze wander. "But I've been hearing it for millennia."

"I thought you didn't have music in Hell?"

"Only for torture," he smiled.

"Luci –"

"Just another five years? One? All right, a month. And then I'll go, I promise." But Amenadiel wasn't going to give, he could tell. "I need a break, brother." He didn't like how desperate he sounded, but what the hell. "It's… not as easy as it used to be. Well… it's got a little easier again lately, now the place is thinning out a bit." He smirked up at him. "I've been sending all the fun your way, haven't I? The Silver City must be quite a handful these days. My apologies for that."

"The more the merrier."

Lucifer snorted.

"You've been working hard, Luci."

He couldn't argue with that.

"With no thought of any reward for yourse–"

"Do you think I could see her?" His heart thumped. "Just for a little – you could sneak me in, no one would know I was there, I wouldn't cause any trouble, I swear." He ran out of breath.

"Luci…" Amenadiel was shaking his head. "There are many in our family who would still not welcome you."

"Of course." He turned his head away. That was the last drop of hope he had left from the store she had given him. He shouldn't have spent it so easily. Now it was all gone.

"But I have met many, many more souls who would."

Lucifer inched his head back.

"And even if Father wanted to – even if he did not delight in the sound – he would not be able to stop his ears to the multitude of voices singing your praises."

Lucifer stared. "Singing my praises? Mine?"

"Yes."

"In Heaven?"

"Yes."

"Is this a joke?"

Amenadiel laughed. That great belly laugh that Lucifer had almost forgotten. "No, Luci. You finally got what you wanted."

Lucifer laughed shakily and pulled a glass from the hand of the bare-chested chap kneeling next to him. "Cheers to that!" He brought it up to his mouth, but something splashed into the Scotch. He wiped his eye and looked down at his hand. It glistened in the light. "So that's why humans cry when they're not sad."

He looked up. Amenadiel's usually stern angelic face was etched with worry. "My dear brother." Lucifer smiled. "I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but… Would you be so kind as to take me home?"

* * *

**A/N: I'm thinking of writing a follow-up set before the last scene, in Hell and on Earth. If I do, it will be a separate story, not additional chapters, but if you're interested, if you follow this one, I'll add a 'dummy' chapter with all the info when it's done.**


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